


Best Frenemies

by tacomuerte



Series: Nature under Constraint and Vexed [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Autistic Character, Chloenette, F/F, F/M, Minor Internalized Homophobia, Romance, Sexual Content, chlobug, chlonette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacomuerte/pseuds/tacomuerte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette Dupain-Cheng leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Chloé Bourgeois, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.</p>
<p>Chloé Bourgeois leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Said to My Soul Be Still and Wait without Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
> 
> \- _T.S. Eliot, East Coker_ (1940)
> 
> Song Choice: “Yellow Flicker Beat” by Lorde

Chloé Bourgeois was a creature of routine. Every phase of her day had its own set of patterns from which she never deviated, regardless of school or free days or her social duties as the daughter of Paris’ mayor. Her private rituals kept her grounded. She knew where she stood—what her place in the world was.

That was the most important thing to Chloé. So much of life was immersed in uncertainty as time lurched from one event to the next with no discernible logic or structure. There had been enough of that in Chloé’s eighteen years to satisfy her for a lifetime. She found control where she could and she held onto it with everything she had.

She never skipped these moments of preparation if at all possible, and nothing good ever came from doing so when her hand was forced. Breaking a pattern might be nice in the short term. Too tired from a night greeting her father’s guests at a dinner? Why not sleep in after? Who didn't like a couple of hours of extra sleep? 

But if she slipped on this, she might slip on other, less trivial things. She did not share these thoughts with anyone. There was no point. Play things close to the vest or lose. She had learned that harsh lesson years earlier.

So she kept her routines, the first of which began early every morning when the alarm clock on Chloé’s bedside table sounded at 5:00 am.

Once the alarm sounded, Chloé switched it off promptly on the second beep and then flicked on her lamp. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the room. Then she rose, stretched, and made her way across the room to perform her morning preparations.

As part of her evening routine, she always considered her outfit for the day before going to sleep and always laid out her choice for the next day on her dressing table. In the morning, she reviewed her choice while she walked to her vanity. Chloé had for this purpose put her dressing table along the wall midway between the bed and the vanity. 

This morning, she paused for a brief second at the dressing table. Today’s outfit dissatisfied her. The hem of the skirt would hit awkwardly just below her knees, an unfortunate side effect of the weight she’d lost since buying it. She would have to reconsider the entire ensemble. She wasn’t sure what she had been thinking when she had pulled that particular skirt from her closet, but she brushed it off as post-traumatic stress from yesterday afternoon’s attack.

That whole affair had been highly annoying. Ladybug had subdued the monster in short order, but then she had the nerve to lecture Chloé about being nicer to incompetent waitstaff. The foam on that latte was definitely over-steamed! Even someone as stupid as the barista Chloé had been saddled with should have known it was completely unacceptable. It wasn’t Chloé’s problem the woman had broken down and turned into a twisted freak… until of course the twisted freak did her level best to murder Chloé… which yes, at that point it had become her problem. Still, Ladybug was being a bit rude suggesting Chloé had been the source of the issue.

Sitting down at her vanity and selecting one of her oil-based cleansers, she considered how the people of Paris used to be made of sterner stuff. Was it really her fault that now any time one had a random hangnail, there was a risk of citywide destruction? She should speak to Ladybug about this the next time they met. Someone should let the hero know these creatures were moving past inconvenient, causing unacceptable levels of disruption. Ladybug should get to solving whatever caused these tiresome transformations as soon as possible—although Chloé had to grant that the opportunity to see and speak to Ladybug entirely made up for her being a frequent target of attacks.

She paused in the middle of applying her exfoliant. There was no point in lying to herself. She was fully aware that she seemed somehow tied to the ever more frequent occurrences of whatever monster infestation was plaguing Paris. But she wasn't sure what she could do about it. It was quite obvious that angry or upset people were the ones transforming into these creatures, but if Chloé suddenly changed how she interacted with people, there would be questions. Those never went anywhere pleasant. Better, she thought, not to dwell on what couldn't be changed. It was too late to change anyway. She was eighteen now, and only had this last year of school. After she was done with this year, she could go out into the world and maybe be someone else. That seemed very much like a false hope, though. She didn't really know how to be less… her.

She resumed her exfoliation and purposefully switched to another line of thought. Her inconvenienced day was a safe subject. After being attacked and then lectured, Chloé had to deal with the fact she had never gotten her replacement latte. It seemed it was too heavy a burden to expect the barista to continue to do her job once Ladybug had solved all her problems.

Of course, what had completely ruined Chloé’s day was her idiot Biology teacher who decided to call her father **after** she had nearly lost her life to a crazy monster-barista’s mutant steam wand (punishment enough by Chloé’s estimation) but at least Papa had not said anything to her other than to say he was glad she was alright… although he had that look on his face that said they would be discussing it sometime in the near future. None of that changed the fact that she had nearly lost her life, and she had even patiently… more or less… endured an entirely unnecessary lecture from Paris’ resident superhero for her troubles. (Chat Noir was **not** in the running for that title in Chloé’s opinion.) 

What was she supposed to have done? Gone without her daily latte? The school didn’t serve coffee like any decent establishment should. It was practically barbaric. But Ladybug hadn’t given Chloé a chance to explain. She was sure that Ladybug would have sided with her had she known the circumstances. And of course, Chloé had to skip a class period or two if she wanted to go to what at least used to be a passable café. That fact was so obvious that Chloé couldn’t really understand why her teacher had a problem with her actions. He openly despised her, so he should have been glad she had opted out of class. And It wasn’t as if she did her own homework anyway. That’s the precise reason she had enlisted a minion. If you couldn’t count on a minion to handle mundane activities, what was the point of it all?

She paused again and took a calming breath. Unmanaged stress would give her premature wrinkles, and she had absolutely no desire to start botox before she was forty.

Chloé let her hands go limp at the wrist and shook them for a moment. She had done things like this since she was a small child, to her parents consternation. Small, repeated actions had a calming effect on her. A couple of years ago, her yoga instructor had seen her shake her hands this way, and after she recovered from the embarrassment of someone seeing her doing something she knew others would think of as weird, he had said that it was a good thing. When she did things like this, she channeled anxiety out of the body. It did seem to help as silly as it looked, and at least in the privacy of her own bedroom, she didn’t mind. If she wasn’t alone, it would be a different matter, but this period of solitude while preparing for life in the public eye was the entire point of her morning routine.

If pressed, she would admit this was her favorite time of day—this quiet time when no one else was awake, except for hotel staff who had the professional discretion to leave her alone. She liked preparing herself to go out into the world, and she took great care to stick to her facial care routine. It, like many things in her life, was designed to be meditative… calming. She found her center and took a composing breath. Between each step, she took precisely thirty seconds to recite sections of her daily mantra. When she applied her sheet mask, which had to stay on for twenty minutes, she took the time to look through her walk-in closet for a change of outfit, but she still couldn’t find anything that satisfied her.

She decided she had no choice but to go with what she picked out the night before. None of the losers at school would notice or care that her skirt was out of fashion, except Adrien seeing as he was a fashion model, but he was far too sweet to humiliate Chloé like that. 

But there was also Marinette. The little busybody fancied herself a budding fashion designer. She would definitely notice, and Chloé felt a sour taste in the back of her throat just thinking about Marinette sitting docilely in class, those bright blue eyes of hers narrowing slightly in silent judgment of Chloé. This was why she tried her very best to never think about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, even though the girl simply wouldn’t take the hint and just go away.

Far away. 

Forever.

But no, Marinette was always inserting herself into Chloé’s business. When the girl wasn’t trying to give aid and comfort to whichever classmate had foolishly gotten on Chloé’s bad side that day, she was forcing Chloé to watch as she shamelessly fawned over Adrien with her blushing and stuttering. Marinette’s crush on him was as obvious as it was infuriating.

Not for the first time this week, Chloé wished she could think of some nonlethal way (Chloé wasn’t a monster despite the opinion of the majority of her classmates) to rid herself of Marinette. Perhaps she could arrange for Papa to give the girl a scholarship to some distant foreign country. Maybe an internship somewhere, since that was a thing people did in their last year of school sometimes, and Marinette, like Chloé, was now eighteen. Ready to graduate. Ready to move on.

In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. Marinette would definitely notice Chloé’s fashion faux pas, but she would never point it out, since that would be the **wrong** thing to do. Marinette was criminally good. It was very upsetting really. Somehow it seemed that every part of Chloé’s life would be better if Marinette would just return the meanness Chloé visited upon her. Sure, the girl fought back, but even then she was just so… **nice** about it. Well, at least by Chloé’s standards, Marinette was nice about it. If the roles were reversed, Chloé would have already scratched the girl’s eyes out.

Chloé decided she would simply come straight home after school and change… or perhaps go shopping. That could be fun. She wondered for a moment if Sabrina might like to accompany her, but she quickly discarded the notion. Sabrina was a yes-girl through and through, and she seemed terrified of offering an opinion that might differ from Chloé’s. Not that Chloé might be wrong when it came to fashion, but it would be nice to have an actual discussion, which Sabrina… well, there was a reason the girl was minion material.

The extremely disappointing notion crossed her mind that Marinette under other circumstances would be an ideal shopping companion, and Chloé hated herself for it even thinking it. Maybe she could somehow convince Ladybug into going shopping with her… but no, that wouldn’t do either. They would be swarmed with paparazzi and inevitably someone would take a picture of the skirt which was already giving her the beginnings of a headache, and then she would be a laughingstock. The fact that she had other very good reasons for preferring the **idea** of a closer relationship with Ladybug versus the **reality** of a closer relationship with the heroine was a subject she preferred not to consider.

Returning to the vanity, Chloé peeled off the mask and checked for blemishes. There was a small one near her jaw below her left ear, but it wasn’t truly noticeable unless someone got close enough to really look, and that was something she was certainly not going to allow. Still, she made a point of carefully covering the area with concealer once she moved past the cleansing stage, blending and smoothing until the blemish was invisible, matching the rest of her flawlessly crafted makeup.

She was quite aware her schoolmates made cracks about her wearing makeup every day to school. Whatever. She wasn’t going to stoop to their level. Let the idiots gossip, insinuating her skin was pimply or her complexion was blotchy under the makeup. She knew the truth. She took excellent care of herself because you only had one shot at life, and going through it without proper skincare could only lead to a bad end.

She ended her morning facial routine by kissing the first two fingers of her left hand and touching them to the picture of her mother that never left the vanity (unless some idiot maid had a death wish.) She made the same promise to her mother’s picture she made every morning and night before getting up to dress.

The last hour and a half before she left promptly at 7:30 was spent eating a light breakfast of bran and fruit while scrolling through the latest blogs and articles on her three favorite subjects: fashion, politics, and of course, Ladybug.

Closing the cover to her tablet, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, she stood in front of her full-length mirror, and examined herself. She was acceptable, although the skirt was inexcusable really.

Turning her attention to her face, she set her mouth to a slight smirk with just a hint of cruel amusement. Perfect. She knew this would keep everyone at the necessary distance. No one could touch her. No one could hurt her.

Grabbing her tablet and purse, she pulled out her sunglasses and perched them on the top of her head and went out the door, as ready as she could be to face the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome and I hope you enjoyed reading my initial voyage on this small ship! Let me know if I made any mistakes, and I appreciate any comments and feedback! Admittedly, this chapter is very short, but that always seems to happen when I don’t have dialogue. Future chapters will vary in length.
> 
> If there’s anything you want to see when it comes to Chlobug or Chlonette (Is there an official ship name?), I hope this story can give you some of it!
> 
> I was inspired to write this story when three things happened in the same morning. First, I finally gave in and decided to watch an episode or two of this show and I fell in love! I'm still working my way through though slowly as I find episodes, so I will be the first to admit I'm not super current on all canon. Second, I saw a wonderfully funny and wicked youtube video of Margot Robbie riffing off _American Psycho_ with her morning beauty routine and it occurred to me that she and Chloé kind of favor and wouldn't it be neat to have a fanfic inspired by Korean skincare methods? Okay, maybe that's just me. We'll see. Third, I started reading fics and while I love the dynamic between Marinette and Adrien, there are a TON of those already and I have this thing where I like to play with ships that don't get as much attention.
> 
> So those are my initial inspirations. I decided to also pair each chapter with a quote (which generates the chapter title as well) plus a song that sets the mood or tone of the chapter. Also, I have to warn you now that I can't fathom how the French school system works, so there are likely going to be differences. I'll do my best to keep those to a minimum.
> 
> Finally I've written seven of the ten chapters and I'm working on Chapter 8 now, so this is set to update every three days or so. Surely, I can finish three chapters before Chapter 7 publishes...
> 
> I want to give all the thanks in the world to the very wonderful and patient asimaiyat who is beta reading and editing this fiction.


	2. The Means of Our Own Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction.
> 
> \- _Aesop, The Eagle and the Arrow_ (Date Unknown)
> 
> Song Choice: “Bitter Rivals” by Sleigh Bells

Marinette should have known the morning had started too well. It was too good to last. Something was bound to try and ruin it. Maybe it would be Hawk Moth preying on a sad, angry person and transforming them into an akuma. Maybe a roving band of criminals would rob a bank. Maybe some random natural disaster would hit Paris. 

Or maybe Chloé would continue her one-woman crusade to wreak havoc at school either by interfering with Marinette’s social life or by terrorizing someone into akumatizing or possibly both at once. Seriously, Hawk Moth should pay her a commission.

And of course it did turn out to be Chloé who ended up ruining her day, but in an admittedly new and surprising way, which was impressive. Marinette didn’t think it was possible for Chloé to unearth any more unique ways to make her miserable, but the girl was nothing if not dedicated. At least it didn’t involve akumas, and while it wasn’t directly related to Marinette’s social life, she was pretty sure that by the end of this her social life would be chalked up as collateral damage.

Marinette wondered if she had missed some sign earlier this morning. Maybe the universe wanted a really good laugh at her expense. She hoped the universe was getting its money’s worth.

Looking back, everything had seemed fine—great, even—a couple of hours ago. She had awoken to the sun peeking over the horizon and the smell of fresh baked bread lingering in the air, which was her favorite part of living over a bakery.

The day was warm, the breeze was refreshing, and it was Friday meaning she had the weekend to look forward to. Her parents had surprised her with cookies for her classmates, too. Of course, Tikki got first pick, and she had happily snuggled into Marinette’s bag with two still-warm chocolate chip cookies as Marinette walked to school.

She was a little behind schedule, having stopped to wrap up the cookies, but she wasn’t in danger of being late. The only downside was she wouldn’t have an opportunity to hang out and chat with Alya before class started.

Other than that, it was a pretty perfect Friday morning.

Until she arrived at school.

Marinette entered the building and headed for first period, already making plans in her head for the weekend. She might have a girls’ day out with Alya, or maybe she would have a nice, tranquil day in the park sketching. She’d even heard that Adrien had a photoshoot near the river, although just the thought that she might be daring enough to go watch brought a blush to her cheeks. Still, no matter what she decided to do, she knew she was going to have fun!

She hummed a nameless tune to herself as she waved hello to the principal… who looked rather grim for some reason as he motioned her towards his office, which was confusing in and of itself. She had never once been summoned to the principal’s office in her entire school career.

As she approached, she could see Chloé already sitting inside the principal’s office looking angry enough to kill someone. Marinette’s stomach dropped like she had swallowed a pint of cement. Whatever this was couldn’t be good.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Principal Bernard said, greeting her. “Would you mind stepping into my office for a moment?"

From the look on his face, Marinette didn’t think she really had a choice, so she nodded and did as he requested. She had no clue why she was in here, but if it involved Chloé, it was going to be the opposite of fun.

The principal closed the door behind Marinette, motioned her to take the seat beside Chloé, and then took his own seat behind the desk facing the two girls.

For several moments the three sat in silence, the principal with his elbows on his desk and hands folded in front of his face and his brow furrowed almost as if he sat in prayer. He looked for all the world like a man who had been told he had to grab a tiger by its ears and wrestle it to the ground… and Marinette was pretty sure the tiger’s name was Chloé Bourgeois.

Marinette was not surprised that it was Chloé who broke the silence. She was not known for patience even on her best days, of which there were very, very few. However, Marinette was surprised that Chloé seemed as much in the dark as she was.

“Are you just going to sit there staring at us, Principal Bernard, or do you have something to say?” Chloé asked, sharply. “I’m sure my father will be very happy to hear about you detaining his daughter for no reason while she’s missing valuable class time.”

Marinette was proud of herself for catching herself mid-snort and turning it into a cough. She felt that asking for no reaction whatsoever would have been completely unreasonable after the disastrous consequences of Chloé skipping school yesterday.

Chloé glared at her, but the principal interrupted before the blonde could do more than open her mouth to insult Marinette.

“Your father, Miss Bourgeois, is the reason you’re here,” he said.

Chloé blinked, surprised. “I don’t understand.”

“He called me last night to discuss your attendance, especially in light of the attack on the café yesterday.”

“Oh,” Chloé responded quietly. Marinette could swear the girl immediately turned at least two shades paler under all that makeup.

“Yes,” the principal continued. “Specifically, he called to ask why you were in a café during school hours when you should have been in Biology lab.”

Chloé sighed dramatically. “It smells in there. I don’t see why I have to endure that odor. It can’t be good for anyone.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Bourgeois, you were not authorized to leave school grounds, and your father is… quite upset.”

If anything, Chloé looked even paler than before.

Marinette felt that Chloé deserved the scolding, especially in light of the fact that Marinette in her guise as Ladybug had been required to save Chloé—again—and had gotten precisely three things out of the encounter: a weeping barista, an ungrateful brat of a mayor’s daughter refusing to accept any responsibility, and a burn on the back of her right shoulder from the akumatized barista’s magic steam wand. Tikki had assured her that the burn would fade in a few days courtesy of her magic, but it was the principle of the thing.

What she did not understand was why she was sitting here beside Chloé as if she had done something wrong. Fear began to build in her stomach. Had the school administration somehow found out that she was Ladybug’s alter ego? She took advantage of Chloé’s momentary shock at the notion that her precious papa would ever hold her accountable to see what the principal knew if anything.

“Principal Bernard,” she began, surprised when Chloé simply stared ahead with a blank, defeated expression instead of trying to silence her as she usually did. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m glad you asked that, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he replied with a warm smile that did absolutely nothing to reassure her. “First, we feel Miss Bourgeois’ situation is one that can be salvaged since we’re only two weeks into the school term. As you are the president of your and Miss Bourgeois’ class and also a model student…”

Principal Bernard stopped as both he and Marinette looked at Chloé, now slumped down in her seat, who was repeatedly banging the back of her head against her chair. Hard.

Despite herself, Marinette worried the blonde might give herself a concussion.

“Is there a problem, Miss Bourgeois?” asked, a mixture of exasperation and concern coloring his tone.

Chloé stopped, sat up straight, and gave the man her most saccharine smile. “Of course not! My favorite part of the day is listening to the unending praise heaped on Marinette for being a very good girl.”

The way she said “very good girl” sounded to Marinette exactly the way a person might baby-talk at a dog for sitting on command.

Marinette left eye started twitching involuntarily, but she did not otherwise rise to the bait.

The principal sighed. “Miss Bourgeois, this will go much quicker if you let me finish.”

“Fine,” Chloé huffed and began examining her nails.

“As I was saying, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” the principal resumed. “Considering that you are—if I may say so—an excellent role model…”

Chloé snorted, but the principal continued as if he couldn’t hear her, which was probably the only way he or Marinette would get through this with sanity intact.

“I feel you are perfectly suited for the task of being Miss Bourgeois’ academic partner this school year.”

“What?!” both girls shouted simultaneously.

The principal looked surprised at their outburst.

“What do you mean by… ‘partner?’” Marinette asked. She wasn’t sure she actually wanted the answer.

“Her father feels she hasn’t taken full advantage of the academic opportunities we offer, so in an effort to… correct this, the mayor and I believe that Miss Bourgeois could use… a study partner for group projects who can also personally tutor her. You will of course be compensated, per the standard rates we pay part-time tutors.”

Well, Marinette thought, au revoir, Sanity! I’m glad we had many years together, but it seems all good things must come to an end.

Marinette didn’t bother feeling bad that she was having an internal conversation with her departing peace of mind. Instead, she decided she was proud she didn’t start giggling maniacally on the spot because this? This was hilarious and terrifying and full of nope. She was going to put a stop to this. She had to.

“What?” Marinette asked, feebly. She had intended to say was that this was completely unacceptable and she absolutely refused to be paired with Chloé for any reason up to and including expulsion. She hoped the principal could translate her question correctly because speaking seemed difficult at the moment.

Chloé wasn’t being helpful either and sat as if frozen—silent, eyes wide and panicked, jaw slightly agape.

“And we’ve already rearranged your schedule to fit Miss Bourgeois’ schedule,” Principal Bernard continued, oblivious to the terror he had instilled in the two girls. “The good news is you are already taking the same classes. However, since several of them are at different periods, we did have to move another student to balance out the enrollments. I believe her name is Sabrina…” 

He trailed off, looking for a file or something, probably to confirm that Sabrina was being switched with Marinette.

This was bad. This was very bad. There was a very good, excellent reason Marinette and Chloé only shared one class. Marinette always carefully arranged her schedule to avoid if possible any specific class where Chloé was enrolled, and she was positive that Chloé did the same when it came to her. If what the principal was proposing happened, she would have only the first class of the day with Alya… and just as bad, that would also be her only class with Adrien.

She had to stop this… to insist this was unfair and wrong, but she could barely muster one question.

“What?” she repeated.

This wasn’t turning out to be her finest hour for debating a point.

“You’re now… shall we say ‘study buddies’ with Miss Bourgeois, and the mayor and I are quite confident that you’ll be an excellent influence,” Principal Bernard kindly supplied as he gave up on looking for the file or paper or whatever piece of official doom for Marinette he had hoped to find.

“What?” Marinette said again, helplessly. She sincerely wished that panic hadn’t reduced her vocabulary to a single word. It would be much easier to get out of this mess if she could remember words.

“So,” the principal continued, put off a bit by both students’ horrified shock over what he considered a reasonable solution. “Unless there are any **valid** objections?”

Chloé visibly shook herself and finally spoke up. “I have—”

And that was as far as she got before Principal Bernard held up his hand, silencing her. Marinette didn’t think that would have worked on any other day, but today seemed special.

“No, Miss Bourgeois,” he said with as much gravity he could muster, which turned out to be quite a lot of gravity in Marinette’s opinion. “You do not have any valid objections. Your father has already approved.”

Chloé sank back into her seat, defeated.

“What?” Marinette said again. If Chloé couldn’t bully her way out of this, what hope did they have?

Chloé sighed. “I think you’ve broken her, Principal Bernard.” She smiled cruelly at Marinette. “If she’s defective, can we send this one back and get an upgrade? Maybe one without the pigtails?”

“You’re not funny, Miss Bourgeois,” Principal Bernard said, rising from his seat. “Now, off to class with both of you. We’re all busy this morning.”

He motioned them to stand and handed Marinette a note saying she should give it to Sabrina and send her to his office at the end of their first class to get her new schedule.

Marinette and Chloé left the room silently. The principal closed the door behind them.

The two girls stood in the hall staring at the opposite wall, unsure of what to do. None of this made sense. What had she done to deserve **this**?

Marinette broke the silence. “What?”

Chloé spoke through gritted teeth. “Is that literally the only word you know? Are you some kind of deranged parrot?”

Marinette blinked at the taller girl. She did not answer. Instead, she started walking towards their first class… together. For the entire year. So much fun.

Chloé slouched beside her unhappily. They had almost made it to the classroom when Chloé said, “I don’t see why you’re acting like **you’re** the one being punished.”

Marinette turned her head, eyebrows raised so high she thought they might climb off her face altogether. In her fury, she rediscovered her vocabulary.

“You hate me. I’m not real fond of you either. Of course, I’m being punished!” Marinette’s voice rising as she went on. “I’m not the one that skipped school and almost got herself killed, either! Why should I be dragged into your mess?!”

Chloé shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes, yes, yes. It’s so unfair to you. I’m the one that has to do my own homework now.”

“How can you possibly think this is fair to me?” Marinette didn’t bother to address the absurdity that Chloé doing her own work was somehow a punishment.

Chloé stopped, forcing Marinette to stop if she wanted a response. Marinette did, so she stopped as well and faced the blonde, looking determined.

“Well, I’m certainly an upgrade over your usual friends,” Chloé said with a shrug.

Marinette responded with a growl that rose from deep in her throat. She turned and began walking again towards the classroom door, but she stopped when she heard Chloé laugh.

“I’m glad someone is enjoying herself,” Marinette snapped, rounding on Chloé.

Chloé narrowed her eyes and sneered. “Oh, don’t kid yourself. The only fun I’ll get out of this is watching you suffer with me.”

“I’m so happy I can help,” Marinette said sourly.

Chloé shrugged again. “It’s your own fault that you’re stuck with me.”

Marinette wanted to tear out her own hair… or better yet, Chloé’s hair. “Okay. You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

Chloé’s mouth stretched into a merciless, tight-lipped smile. Marinette had the feeling she had fallen into some sort of trap.

“Dear Marinette,” she began with a false sweetness. “It’s because you’re a mousy suck-up.” Then she even had the nerve to pat Marinette on the cheek!

Marinette’s left eye started twitching again and she reminded herself that punching out a fellow student was definitely not how a hero should behave. “Why? Because I care enough to **not** stomp all over people to get what I want?”

“No,” Chloé responded. “Because you had the chance in Principal Bernard’s office a couple of minutes ago to get out of this ’mess’ as you put it.”

Marinette started to speak, but Chloé spoke over her.

“Yes, you did. He asked if anyone had a valid objection—and he made it very clear that **my** objections weren’t valid. Was there anyone else in the room who might have objected?”

Chloé paused to let that sink in. Marinette could see where this was going and reluctantly agreed.

“I could have objected,” she admitted. “I could have stopped it, or at least convinced him to go with someone else.”

“Exactly, and you went and shut down or whatever it is you want to call it when faced with the chance you might disappoint an authority figure,” Chloé said, her voice grim and bitter.

Marinette felt rage wash over her. How dare Chloé say that? 

“I was ambushed!” Marinette shouted, her voice echoing down the hallway. “I didn’t have a chance to think before being basically chained to a hateful, arrogant brat!”

Chloé laughed dismissively waving off Marinette’s insult. “Oh, I’m not that bad.”

“Yes!” Marinette angrily replied, still shouting. “Yes, you are! There isn’t a person alive who is worse! You don’t have a single redeeming quality, and your only friend is someone you pay off with pretty gifts!” 

Marinette wasn’t sure she hated Hawk Moth as much as she hated Chloé at the moment.

And then Marinette saw something that surprised her, something she never thought she would see. A flicker of hurt flashed across Chloé’s face before she once again put on her usual haughty, arrogant smile.

“Let’s just get through it then,” the blonde answered, and Marinette could have sworn there was a raw sadness in Chloé’s voice, if she didn’t know better. She must have been imagining things. If Chloé had had the decency to care how others felt about her, she wouldn’t behave so horribly to everyone all the time.

She didn’t have time to think about it, though. Chloé opened the door to their classroom and went through without another word.

They each walked towards their respective seats while the students looked at them curiously. They had to have heard the shouting in the hallway. Chloé sat in the back with Sabrina, and Marinette sat in the front with Alya. She was so upset that she didn’t feel the usual butterflies in her stomach as she made her way past Adrien.

Marinette ignored Alya’s questioning look and pulled out her tablet. She sat staring at it, not listening to the teacher who had resumed speaking after the two tardy students were seated.

Suddenly, Alya was snapping her fingers in front of her face. She looked up at her friend in shock. Alya pointed at the teacher, and Marinette turned her attention to the front of the class.

“Marinette,” the teacher, Ms. Duvet, said while looking at her with concern. “You need to switch seats for group work.”

“What?” Marinette blurted out, instantly regretting asking that particular question because of course Chloé responded instantly.

“Oh, good,” Chloé said, her voice dripping venomously with sarcasm. “I thought she might have forgotten that word.”

Marinette closed her eyes, fingers resting on her temples. She felt a headache coming on. With a sigh, she gathered her things and stood to walk to the back. Sabrina was still standing by her now former seat looking at Chloé like a puppy that had lost its favorite toy.

For a very brief moment, Marinette wanted to kick the redhead. Anyone that looked at Chloé with that kind of adoration must deserve kicking for some very good reason. Even if Marinette wasn’t aware of what that particular reason might be right now, there had to be one.

Sabrina looked to the teacher. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

Ms. Duvet seemed to be losing patience. “Sit by Alya, dear. You can partner with her for this assignment. Marinette is going to partner with Chloé.”

Alya looked up, eyes wide in shock. For that matter, so did Sabrina and the rest of the class with the exceptions of Chloé and Marinette, who stared at each other, resigned to their shared fate.

Sabrina looked back and forth between Chloé and Alya before speaking again. “But why can’t I work with Chloé?”

The girl seemed on the verge of a panic attack. Why anyone would panic over being freed from Chloé was a mystery that Marinette couldn’t fathom, and didn’t really want to either. She sincerely wanted to offer to let Sabrina have her way, but that wasn’t an option.

Chloé supplied the answer to Sabrina’s question, managing to sound both bored and impatient. “Marinette and I have been permanently assigned as partners for every assignment in every class. We’re now taking everything together. Marinette has a note for you, Sabrina. Your schedule is being switched with hers.”

Chloé then turned her head refusing to look at Marinette, choosing instead to stare out the window. Marinette for her part couldn’t shake the thought that she had hurt Chloé’s feelings, which was plain weird. Chloé was clearly immune to both criticism and rejection.

The students were now speaking loudly among themselves, ignoring Ms. Duvet. Sabrina was on the verge of tears as Marinette handed her the note from the principal, Alya was looking at Chloé like she might attack the blonde, and Adrien looked back and forth between Chloé and Marinette with a vague look of terror etched on his face.

Marinette slipped past Sabrina and took her new seat while Ms. Duvet worked to get the students back under control. Once she did, she gave the new assignment, which was about examining the differing heritages of the students’ families. They needed to interview the other student’s family and create a two-person project with a subject of their choosing. Ms. Duvet told them to talk with their partners and sat down to grade papers, seeming very relieved she could stop interacting with the students.

Marinette turned to Chloé, determined not to give Chloé any chance to trash her parents.

“Chloé,” she said sternly. “If you start anything with my family—”

“Don’t worry,” Chloé said, interrupting. “My sole motivation is to get this over with.” Her words lacked their usual bite. In fact, she sounded… depressed.

Marinette studied her new partner for a moment trying to see if this was some sort of ruse to lull her into a false sense of security.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “How do you want to go about this?”

Chloé shrugged. “Papa is leaving for a conference in Hong Kong tomorrow morning and won’t return for three weeks. Can you interview him tonight?”

Marinette nodded. That would work. Their project and accompanying papers were due in two weeks.

“Wait,” Chloé said with a sigh. “I forgot there’s a party tonight honoring… someone. I can’t remember who exactly.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, dubious that Chloé would have forgotten a party when she lived to brag about all the high society events she attended.

Chloé frowned. “When you have to go to as many of these as I do, they tend to blend together.”

Marinette had to admit that made sense, but it didn’t solve the problem. “Could I interview him before or after the party, or tomorrow before he leaves?”

Chloé thought for a moment. “He’s leaving very early in the morning. He won’t want to do it then. I know he’ll be too busy to bother with something like this before the party, and it will be far too late to interview him afterwards… You’ll have to come to the party as my guest. I’m sure Papa can spare a few minutes while we’re there.”

“ **You’re** inviting **me** to a party?!” Marinette said that louder than she intended, earning a harsh look from Ms. Duvet and matching, panicked looks from Alya and Sabrina.

“I did, yes, although I’m already regretting it,” Chloé said, sounding exasperated.

“What kind of party?” Marinette asked.

Chloé stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“I mean,” Marinette continued, trying to explain and hopefully reduce the overall level of hostility between them. They were stuck in this situation for a year, so they might as well make the best of it. “You said it’s honoring someone, right? So is it a formal party? A dinner party? Or what?”

Chloé expression softened, and she nodded, seeing Marinette’s point. “Oh, it’s an after-hours cocktail party at the Louvre.”

“I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to an after-hours cocktail party at the Louvre,” Marinette replied, unsure how she could make this work.

The blonde eyed her appraisingly. “We’ll go shopping after school. I need something as well.”

Did… Chloé want Marinette to buy a dress that likely would cost more than her parents made in a month? For one party? And she wanted to hang out after school? Together? Shopping? The world no longer made any sense.

Marinette fought through her confusion by latching onto practical details.

“Um… Chloé… I don’t have the kind of money to buy…” she trailed off, slightly embarrassed, knowing it was inevitable that Chloé would use this to humiliate her for not being rich.

Chloé scoffed and quietly said, “I’m aware. Don’t worry. I’ll pay for the dress.”

Marinette was both surprised that Chloé wasn’t making a huge, loud deal out of Marinette’s financial situation and at the offer to buy a very expensive dress. She started to protest, but Chloé didn’t give her a chance.

“It’s fine, Marinette,” she said impatiently. “I don’t expect you to pay me back, and if you don’t want the dress after… donate it to charity or something.” Chloé cut her eyes towards Marinette. “Don’t screw this up by overthinking it. We have to live with each other for the entire school year.”

Marinette felt queasy that Chloé had mirrored her thoughts on their partnership. 

“I’ll call my parents at lunch and explain I’m doing homework with a classmate… and will be going to a cocktail party at the Louvre tonight,” she said with more than a hint of disbelief. This was going to be her life now? Cocktail parties at the Louvre? She wasn’t comfortable with this, but arguing seemed pointless. She had no idea how her parents would react. She wasn’t sure how she herself should react.

And there was the fact that she was also a bit worried about Chloé’s choice in dresses considering the skirt Chloé had chosen to wear today. Her concern apparently was easy to read.

“What?” Chloé asked and then noticed what Marinette was looking at. “Oh. The skirt. Yes, it’s regrettable, but I was out of options.”

“That is… an interesting hemline,” Marinette ventured diplomatically.

Chloé gave her a disappointed frown, signaling agreement. “Don’t sugarcoat it. It’s dreadful. I know. I couldn’t find anything else that went with this blouse, and I hoped you might not notice.”

“Me?”

Chloé shrugged. “I knew no one else would. I took a chance you might not.”

“It could be worse?” Marinette said although she hadn’t meant to phrase it as a question.

“I’m not sure how,” Chloé said, sighing. She paused and seemed to gather herself before continuing. “Marinette, don’t take this the wrong way or make a big deal out of it, but…” Chloé paused again looking like she was trying to swallow something particularly unpalatable, and Marinette braced for the worst. “But,” Chloé continued even more quietly than before. “It… might be nice to discuss fashion with someone that has an idea of what they’re talking about.”

Marinette didn’t have a chance to respond before Chloé turned her attention to her tablet and started taking notes. The brunette decided to take the compliment instead of questioning it, but she felt a bit unsteady. Chloé complimenting her was like the sun rising in the West.

“Thanks,” she began, hoping to make the best of the situation.

“I said not to make a big deal of it,” Chloé responded, cutting her eyes away from her tablet and then returning them. “Just… stop talking to me. I don’t want this.”

“Want what?”

“This… friendliness or whatever it is you want to call it.” Chloé sat her tablet down and turned to Marinette. “I want this to be over. I want **away** from you.”

Marinette was taken aback. “I was just trying to thank you for a compliment.”

“Well, don’t,” Chloé said pointing an accusing finger, and Marinette could see she was getting angrier as she spoke. “I hate ‘thank you’s.’ They don’t mean anything.”

Chloé tapped out a rhythm on her desk with her free hand. Marinette didn’t think she was aware she was doing it as the tapping sped up while she spoke.

“People only say thanks when they want something for you,” Chloé finished. She noticed Marinette watching her tap her fingers and immediately stopped. She pulled her hand back and looked mildly embarrassed.

“Or,” Marinette answered slowly and thick with sarcasm. “I don’t know… maybe they appreciate what you said and thought it was nice? Because that was me. A minute ago. When I thanked you.”

Chloé narrowed her eyes, refused to answer, and went back to her tablet.

It was going to be such a long, long day and the best part was this was now every day for Marinette for the entire school year.

Marinette decided to give Chloé some time to cool off from whatever was causing her to lash out. They didn’t speak for the rest of the class, and it seemed like forever to Marinette before the bell rang to signal the period’s end. Marinette followed Chloé while looking over her new schedule on her tablet.

The next three periods went agonizingly slow. Unless Marinette directly spoke to Chloé, the blonde pretended she wasn’t there. When she did ask Chloé a question or make a direct statement to her, she only got an answer around one-third of the time. When Chloé deigned to offer a response, she used as few words as possible before resuming her campaign of bitter silence.

Finally, it was time for lunch and some much needed Alya-time for Marinette.

So of course **that** didn’t happen.

Marinette and Chloé were cornered the moment they left for lunch by a teacher Marinette didn’t recognize. He was tall and had a pinched face, and he looked happy in the same way Chat Noir looked when he cornered his prey.

This was the second time today Marinette had been ambushed by a teacher (if you counted the principal and Marinette did.) She had a sinking feeling this was going to work out as well for her as the first ambush had.

“Miss Bourgeois,” the man said greeting Chloé, his mouth drawing up in smug smile. “And it’s nice to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

He did look pleased, Marinette thought, but not because he was meeting her.

Chloé crossed her arms and tilted her head, staring at him like he was a particularly loathsome bug she was debating stepping on or perhaps having someone else do it for her.

Marinette tried to intervene, before they both ended up back in the principal’s office.

“Sorry, we’ve not been introduced,” Marinette said stepping between the teacher and Chloé, saying a small, silent prayer this worked. "I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

She held out her hand to the teacher.

He did not take her hand.

In fact, he looked like she had offered him a dead rat.

So not going to end well…

“Follow me,” he said and turned, walking down the hall.

Chloé stalked past Marinette, following as instructed.

“But lunch…” Marinette offered weakly, as she started trailing the mystery teacher.

The teacher didn’t even stop or turn around as he said, “There’s a frog with your names on it, Miss Dupain-Cheng, or the principal can suspend the both of you.”

Chloé literally snarled as she walked beside Marinette, who was very thankful the teacher was too far ahead to hear.

The teacher stopped by a class door. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a half-lunch,” he said with a sneer. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience Miss Bourgeois.”

The two students filed past him. The classroom was one of the standard science-based rooms at the school, currently filled with trays and dissection instruments. They even had a refrigeration unit for the frogs although that didn’t seem successful in stifling the odor.

Marinette was forced to agree with Chloé that the smell was awful. She had never liked Biology lab. Cutting on dead animals while a teacher stared at everyone made her nervous, and when Marinette was nervous, she was maybe just a tiny bit clumsy, which didn’t seem to work out with that whole cutting on dead animals thing.

Give her some thread, needle, and fabric scissors or a pen and sketch pad, and she was in her element. 

This was so very far from her element.

The teacher—who still hadn’t given Marinette his name… which, **rude** … pointed to a table with a single tray containing a very dead frog, dissection tools, and latex gloves.

The two girls sat at the table with their new dead frog friend and Marinette put her gloves on. Chloé glanced at the gloves, raised an eyebrow, and went back to ignoring Marinette and the teacher.

“Now,” Marinette’s new unnamed Biology teacher began. “You’ll be taking half-lunches until you catch up to the rest of the class. Since Miss Bourgeois has refused every opportunity to do her work, you’ll be starting fresh.”

Marinette raised her hand. The teacher ignored her saying, “I’m sure you already know what to do, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Begin.”

Marinette continued to hold her hand up while Chloé stared blankly ahead. For several moments, the teacher seemed like he was never going to acknowledge her, but finally he sighed.

“What is it, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” he asked, harshly.

This would be much easier if he would tell her his name.

“Sir,” she said, forcing a smile and trying to keep this as friendly as possible. “I’ve already completed this assignment in my—”

“That was your former lab. This is your current lab, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” the man said in a bored tone.

“Yes, but—” Marinette didn’t appreciate being talked to as if she were an idiot, but thought antagonizing the man would be counterproductive at best.

“No ‘buts,’ Miss Dupain-Cheng. You’re in a new lab now, and since your partner has done no work at all the entire term, you get to start over.”

Chloé spoke for the first time since they had arrived. “Sabrina and I had almost completed our dissection.”

“And now she has been transferred to another lab, so you get to do some actual work for once,” he countered.

Marinette interrupted before this got even worse.

“Alright, Sir,” she said. “Okay.” Her nerves were already building towards a crisis point.

Carefully, Marinette went to make the initial incision. She could feel the teacher staring and judging, and she wondered why it was suddenly so warm in this room. Labs were usually cold enough that she was forced to wear her jacket. She sat the scalpel down and took a deep breath.

“Okay, Marinette,” she said to herself. “You can do this.”

The teacher sighed. “Why are you talking to yourself?”

Chloé gritted her teeth and snapped, “Because you’re making her nervous.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you want to be here for your entire lunch, get started.”

Marinette was surprised Chloé had come to her defense, but she pushed that out of her mind. Chloé was only worried about her own grade, and Marinette couldn’t afford the distraction. She sighed and picked the scalpel up again. Slowly and carefully, she made the initial incision… and then her hand slipped and the scalpel veered to the right… and both girls flinched as some sort of disgusting fluid spurted from the frog into the air.

The teacher stood and quickly walked to their table.

“Congratulations,” he said, sounding happier than he had the entire time Marinette had known him, which was admittedly brief. “You’ve severed the leg. The two of you fail the assignment. You’re free to go to lunch.”

Marinette stared back and forth between the frog and the teacher on the verge of tears. She was about to fail over one slip?

Chloé stood and slammed her palms against the table, startling both the teacher and Marinette.

“Give us another frog,” she demanded.

“No, Miss Bourgeois,” the teacher said, his smug grin returning as he shook off his surprise at her outburst. “You fail the assignment.”

Chloé’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “Listen, you self-important twit. You don’t like me? Congratulations. You’ve joined a not-very-select club containing hundreds and maybe even thousands. But this girl?” Chloé jerked her thumb in Marinette’s direction. “Everyone in this stupid school loves her… okay, well not ‘everyone’ if I count, but for today at least, no one seems to care what I think.”

The teacher’s began to speak, but Chloé held up a finger.

“But she’s honest. Stupidly honest if you ask me, but that’s beside the point. What matters is every teacher in this school including the principal trusts her, and so does my father, the mayor of this wonderful city, who handpicked her to tutor me.

“And she won’t lie when asked if you pulled us out of lunch without checking with the principal and then pressured her to perform a dissection she wasn’t ready to do while making her a nervous wreck.”

Marinette blinked and looked at the teacher. “Y—You didn’t have permission to change our lunch schedule?”

The teacher blanched. “I’ve decided you should have a second chance.”

Marinette was torn between being impressed with how Chloé had stood up for her and a low-key fury at the teacher for being such a petty jerk.

Well, Chloé had sort of stood up for her. The blonde couldn’t seem to help herself and had peppered the defense with several insults.

While Marinette debated whether Chloe had been defending or insulting her, the teacher took the frog tray and walked to the storage area. He switched it for another tray containing a new frog and returned to the table.

Chloé hadn’t budged an inch, still standing palms flat against the table and her eyes wide and flashing with anger.

“Good,” Chloé said, shaking with anger. “Now go eat lunch or whatever losers like you do right now.”

Both Marinette and the teacher looked at her, baffled although likely for different reasons.

“I can’t leave you unsupervised,” the teacher said incredulously.

“Get! Out!” Chloé screamed. Marinette thought Chloé might have an actual, honest to goodness stroke if she didn’t calm down.

The teacher huffed. “Fine. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

He stormed out slamming the door behind him, and Chloé retook her seat.

Marinette turned to Chloé. “Stupidly honest?”

Chloé shrugged and turned her face away from Marinette before answering. “Truth and lies are just tools to get what you want.”

Marinette gaped at her. “Wow,” was all she could manage.

Chloé did not say anything else, so Marinette picked up the scalpel with shaky fingers, and told herself she could do this.

“Stop,” Chloé said, who had turned to watch Marinette. “Put the scalpel down.”

Marinette raised her head, blade hovering above the frog.

“I’ll do it,” Chloé said, and Marinette looked at her like the girl had grown a second head.

“You?” Marinette asked, dubiously.

“Shut up and set the scalpel down,” Chloé snapped. “I would ask you to hand it to me but I like my arteries intact.”

Insulted, Marinette sat the scalpel down and moved to the side. She crossed her arms and watched Chloé expectantly.

“Let’s see what you can do then,” she said, inclining her head towards their latest amphibious victim.

Chloé sat down in front of the frog, staring at it while she did that thing Marinette had noticed earlier where she tapped a rhythm with her left hand.

She stopped suddenly and looked at Marinette. “Turn around,” she said.

Marinette wondered what was going on. “Why?” she asked.

“Just. Turn. Around.”

Marinette did as she was told and tried to figure out what Chloé was trying to accomplish since there were mirrors on the back wall of the lab to assist students putting lab gear on meaning Marinette could see whatever it was Chloé wanted to do anyway. Was she going to switch the frog out with a pre-dissected one?

Chloé closed her eyes and took two deep breaths. She held her forearms out in front of herself, hands limp at the wrist. She shook her hands vigorously for a few seconds.

What the heck was she doing?

Chloé stopped shaking her hands, opened her eyes again, and spoke. “You can turn back around now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and sat beside Chloé, who picked up the scalpel. “Do you want me to walk you through it, Chloé?” she asked, deciding that was a safer question than asking about whatever Chloé had been doing with her hands since the blonde currently held a very sharp blade.

Chloé shook her head. “No,” she said absently. Her focus was on the frog in front of her. “I watched Sabrina do this last week.”

Before Marinette could figure out exactly how to point out that watching Sabrina do this once before was probably not the best way to learn how to dissect a frog, Chloé began to work.

Marinette’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.

Chloé made expert cuts, quickly and efficiently. “Don’t look so surprised,” she mumbled at a barely audible level as she switched to scissors and cut the abdominal muscles. “I’m… very good at detail work with my hands.”

That was an understatement. Chloé was making quick work of the frog without even looking at her tablet for instructions.

“So you’ve done this before?”

“No,” was the only answer the blonde supplied.

After only twenty minutes, the dissection was complete and Marinette put the identifying pins in the organs while Chloé washed her hands, grimacing.

“I hate this,” Chloé said, not looking at Marinette.

“Dissecting frogs?” Marinette asked, still stunned.

Chloé soaped her hands again and began scrubbing way too vigorously in Marinette’s opinion.

“The whole thing,” Chloé answered, her volume rising and the force of her scrubbing increasing as she went. “Biology lab. It smells and it’s so messy. All the dead creatures, and… and just watching the students do things like you did. Slicing things up and being so **sloppy**! I look at them and I know I can do better and I just can’t stand watching them. And they don’t care. They just don’t care that they’re making a mess of everything!

“Watching… it’s like I’m trapped and there’s this weight pressing down on me and I can’t breathe. It was just too much yesterday, and I had to get out.”

She suddenly shut off the water and turned to face Marinette, drying her hands. Her face was hard and closed off. “I shouldn’t have told you that,” she said with a shaky voice.

Chloé swept past Marinette, refusing to look at her.

Marinette wasn’t sure what to make of Chloé’s mini-rant. It would never have occurred to her that Chloé was bothered by anything at school. Suddenly, she felt kind of bad for shouting at Chloé yesterday in the aftermath of the café disaster. Chloé had terrorized that poor woman into akumatizing, and that was inexcusable but…

Marinette didn’t know what to think, so she put the thoughts aside and settled on grabbing her tablet and Chloé’s bag and tablet as well. The blonde had left the room without bothering to pick up her things.

When she caught up to Chloé, her classmate took her things without a thank you or any other acknowledgement whatsoever and immediately walked in the direction of the table where Sabrina sat.

Marinette found Alya, who immediately launched into a tirade about the unfairness of the situation, which Marinette agreed with, but things had been so weird a few minutes ago with Chloé that she only half-listened to her friend.

After a few minutes, Marinette excused herself and called home. Her papa answered, and she explained she would be out late working on a class project while she watched Chloé from across the courtyard. The blonde looked bored as Sabrina fawned over her, but Marinette couldn’t help but wonder what was really going on in Chloé’s head.

She refocused on the conversation with her father. She got permission to stay out late, but Marinette avoided supplying many details about the project and she didn’t mention who her partner was. Marinette was too unsure of this situation to know what to think herself. She didn’t want to deal with trying to explain it to anyone else.

The afternoon proceeded as much as the morning did, with Chloé ignoring her except for occasional bouts of sniping at Marinette when she found something irritating. One or two of their teachers seemed to delight in giving Chloé (and Marinette by extension) extra work as punishment, on top of the work Chloé had missed by skipping yesterday, which bothered Marinette more than she felt it should. After all, didn’t Chloé deserve consequences for her actions and her attitude?

Finally, the bell rang signalling the end of the last class, and it was time to go shopping. Marinette had no idea what to expect. The limousine service Chloé used picked them up in front of the school, and a dejected Marinette waved goodbye to Alya as she got in the car. Adrien was there as well, and although he didn’t say anything and Marinette was too embarrassed to even try to speak, he did look sympathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm going to straight-out admit I have no idea how the school system works in France, so please forgive any inconsistencies! I figured I would just go with what works for the story. Anyway, here's Chapter 2 and I hope it's a fun read!
> 
> My beta reader said she kept waiting for Chloé to shout "Baka!" at Marinette and run away. Heh.
> 
> The reasons for the song I chose for this chapter should be easily deciphered! I do want to ask though, are people enjoying the song suggestions?
> 
> I look forward to your comments! They make this all worthwhile!


	3. A Girl Should Be Two Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.
> 
> \- _Coco Chanel_ (Date Unknown)
> 
> Song Choice: “Extraordinary Machine” by Fiona Apple

Ruthless.

That was the best and probably only word to describe Chloé in the act of shopping although something tugged at Marinette’s conscience using a term that negative to describe what was happening. And sure, Marinette had often used words that were unflattering at best to describe the blonde. Words like petty, vindictive, mean, selfish… and that was when she wasn’t angry at her… or at least **very** angry.

This was entirely different, though. Chloé wasn’t being abusive towards anyone. She wasn’t creating a half-dozen potential akumas all at once. She wasn’t attaching herself to Adrien like some sort of blonde leech. She wasn’t—as far as Marinette knew anyway—crafting some ridiculous plot to embarrass Marinette.

This wasn’t to say that everything had gone without incident, and it definitely hadn’t started well.

The drive over was more of the same from school, with Chloé displaying icy indifference and Marinette finding that her previous ideas about just how uncomfortable a person could be in a social situation had been hopelessly naïve. No, she was plumbing new depths in awkwardness sitting in the limousine beside Chloé as her blonde companion stared straight ahead with stony determination and her mouth set in a grim line.

Marinette knew from many years’ experience that Chloé strongly disliked—or more accurately hated—her, but this quiet, seething rage on display today shook her. She had tried twice to thaw out the situation with some sort of small talk about what kind of dress Chloé might be looking for, but both times, the blonde had simply flicked her eyes to Marinette, set her jaw even harder (leading Marinette to wonder if Chloé might end up cracking a tooth,) and then returned to peering into the darkened, raised partition separating them from the driver as if the secrets of the universe lay in the depths of that blackened glass if one only watched long enough.

Marinette gave up trying to draw Chloé out of her foul mood and decided this was one of those times where discretion was absolutely the better part of valor. Marinette had a dreadful feeling that Chloé’s mood meant some sort of akuma incident was almost destined. She decided she only had one option. She had to stay close to Chloé and do her best to mitigate any psychological damage the blonde snob dished out to anyone in the vicinity. Maybe eventually Chloé would cool off finally and start acting like her usual self, which was annoying and infuriating in turns, but not nearly as worrying as how she was now. 

The limousine pulled up to the curb, and both girls got out of the car. Marinette found herself in a part of Paris where she had sometimes window-shopped, although she never considered buying anything here because this level of haute couture was astronomically out of her price range. This, of course, did nothing to settle Marinette’s stress levels.

The first shop was a wash. On the one hand, there were no tantrums and subsequently no akumas, so that was a win. On the other hand, Chloé took under thirty seconds of surveying the outfits on display before brushing past Marinette on her way out the door. Chloé didn’t even shoulder check her like she normally would when she walked past. Marinette never imagined she might miss that. She took about five seconds after Chloé left, looking at the displays before she decided most of what was in here was both overpriced and out of date.

She grinned and shrugged her shoulders at the baffled sales associates who had just watched Chloé walk in, grimace, and leave before she hurried to catch up to Chloé.

Outside, she found her classmate standing and looking from shop to shop on the street deciding which one to visit next. When Marinette stopped beside her, Chloé briefly regarded her before turning back to weighing the merits of the various stores.

“The dresses in there,” Chloé said guardedly without meeting Marinette’s eyes. “were completely unacceptable.”

Marinette nodded and felt relieved the blonde finally might be speaking to her again. “They would have been two years out of season **last** year.”

Chloé cut her eyes towards Marinette again. For her part, the brunette waited, hoping this might be an opening to a more peaceful coexistence. Chloé made her wait long enough for the moment to be really uncomfortable before nodding in response.

It was a start, and Marinette decided she would take it.

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t at least one close call. The second shop they visited offered some better options, but the young woman working at the counter seemed to have little to no inclination to do her job as she sat admiring her manicure.

Chloé didn’t seem to mind as she began sorting through the dresses with remarkable efficiency, quickly eliminating anything she found unsuitable. Marinette watched as Chloé worked her way through the displays. Every so often, she’d hear muttered comments, such as “Honestly, does **anyone** look good in a drop waist?” or “I like these bold florals we’ve been seeing, but they’re just too hard to accessorize,” and “That’s it. With this patent-leather detailing Karl Lagerfeld has officially destroyed everything decent and good about the House of Chanel.” Marinette was conflicted and annoyed to find that she agreed with every comment like that Chloé had made so far. It unsettled her.

Marinette decided she would be better off looking for something of her own to wear tonight while keeping one eye on Chloé. Losing herself in the clothes and desperately trying not to pay attention to the outrageous prices in a probably-futile attempt at staving off a heart attack, she found herself keeping a running commentary the same as Chloé was. Whenever it occurred to her what she was doing, she would glance at Chloé to find the blonde subtly watching her in the same way Marinette was watching Chloé. 

This led to the two of them beginning to consult with each other quietly as they continued to sort. They found they almost always agreed and when they didn’t, they could easily see the other girl’s point. Chloé, for her part, appeared just as disturbed that she agreed with Marinette’s decisions so often, too. Marinette wasn’t sure if she should be happy things were going well or worried that she and Chloé seemed socially compatible on some level.

And just as the two had settled into some semblance of comfort was when things went a tiny bit off the rails.

It started when Chloé found a pretty seafoam green dress with light gold trim. It wasn’t her usual color palette, but it would suit her wonderfully in Marinette’s opinion.

Chloé looked to Marinette and said in a soft voice, “This is nice.”

“It is,” Marinette agreed. “I really think the strapless look will suit you.”

It was true. The girls had shared gym class in the past, and Marinette had noticed the blonde had nice shoulders. 

Chloé smiled and motioned to the saleswoman, who didn’t even bother to acknowledge Chloé. Apparently she’d moved on from studying her nails to scrolling through Instagram. Immediately, alarm bells went off in Marinette’s head. Chloé sighed and cleared her throat. Loudly.

The saleswoman finally glanced up from her phone and looked at Chloé. “I’m busy right now,” she said flatly. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She promptly went back to her phone without bothering to wait for a response.

This was going to be ugly. Marinette looked at Chloé. Her lips were drawn back in a snarl and her eyes were narrowed to slits.

Despite all her plans to prevent just this kind of incident, Marinette froze. Things had just gotten to be bearable and now this rude woman was going to ruin it all, and Marinette felt annoyed and maybe a bit angry, too. Chloé had a right to be upset at such shabby treatment, but Marinette knew from long experience that Chloé would push way too far, making any point she might have irrelevant with her overreaction. 

The blonde opened her mouth to begin a tirade that would be very likely soul-crushing, but… stopped. She looked at the dress, and then to Marinette, and then to the saleswoman. Then she hung up the dress and walked out the door without a word, shoulders slumped.

The saleswoman looked up at the sound of the door and shrugged.

Marinette spoke up before the young woman could resume whatever she thought was so important on her phone.

“That was the mayor’s daughter you just refused service,” Marinette said, sternly. The woman at least had the decency to look worried at Marinette’s statement. Marinette didn’t stop there, pressing on saying, “I’ll be letting the owner know how rude and unhelpful you are.”

Marinette didn’t wait for a response and left.

She found Chloé stalking down the street. The blonde stopped when she noticed Marinette approaching.

“See something you like after I left?” Chloé asked acidly.

Marinette shook her head. “No, I was telling that woman I would notify the owner about what happened.”

This seemed to mildly shock Chloé. “I thought you would lecture me about letting things go or something.”

Marinette shrugged. “You didn’t deserve that person’s attitude. You had every right to be angry.”

Chloé considered that for a moment before speaking again. “It’s a good store. That woman will drive off business, though.”

“That’s why I’m going to contact the owner. Um… you wouldn’t happen to know the owner would you?”

Chloé chuckled before remembering she was angry at Marinette, too. She looked like she was weighing options, so Marinette waited patiently.

“I do,” Chloé finally said. “But let’s not give that idiot in there the satisfaction of making our day even worse. It’s… it’s been hard enough already with everything that’s happened today.”

Marinette agreed completely. “This is your turf, Chloé. I’m following your lead.”

And Chloé did lead. They quickly and efficiently went through several more shops in the next few minutes before settling on one that looked promising. After a while, Chloé had seemingly forgotten how furious she was with Marinette at school, and Marinette was fine with that. They also kept their low-key, amiable conversation going although there were moments when each girl would realize they sounded entirely too friendly for two people who couldn’t stand each other, and suddenly an awkward silence would fall over them. After a few minutes, they would hesitantly fall back into this new routine, trying to keep a clear line as to how friendly they should be with each other versus how much distance they should maintain.

The two girls had settled into a very promising boutique, and Marinette suspected their search would end here. She was surprised to realize that they had gone through nine shops, including this one, in under two hours. She estimated that if she had ever gone on this trip by herself, she would have spent an hour in the first shop alone, sorting through things and trying to fight off a rising panic over the prices.

That panic was still present, but subdued by the pleasure of watching an artist at work. That was really the best way to describe Chloé in this, her natural environment. Still, Marinette was pretty sure the shock would hit full force once Chloé decided on what dress she was going to buy for Marinette, who doubted she was allowed much input on that decision if she brought up price as a factor.

The very idea that Chloé was buying her a dress was still too much to handle. Marinette kept waiting for the inevitable bait and switch where Chloé revealed her plan to make a fool out of her. Perhaps she was being unfair. She did have years of experience with Chloé, though, coloring her expectations.

For now, Marinette played her part, hoping that this wasn’t some convoluted plot. When Chloé asked for an opinion, she gave it honestly. She continued to be agitated that Chloé agreed with nearly every assessment, but—and this was the most baffling part of all to Marinette—she was having a lot of fun in the moments she forgot she and Chloé weren’t friends. 

It was very different from window shopping with Alya. Marinette loved her best friend, but the girl’s sense of fashion extended to being Marinette’s biggest cheerleader and what the most comfortable sneakers were to chase Ladybug around the city. Marinette’s mom was no better. She loved her mother, but the woman wanted to dress Marinette like she was still a pre-teen. 

Marinette had never had a chance to do something like this with anyone on the same wavelength. She tried very hard to not think about what being on Chloé’s wavelength might say about her. 

“Chloé, do you and Sabrina do this often?” Marinette asked, more to distract herself from her current line of thought than anything else. She couldn't help but be curious, though, if the subtle shift she'd noticed in Chloé's behavior was just the way she acted outside of school, but Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloé was purposefully being less confrontational this afternoon. She was still abrupt and prickly, but she didn’t seem to be going out of her way to inflict emotional trauma. Maybe she was too distracted by tonight’s upcoming party to really commit to being horrible at the moment.

Chloé paused in the act of examining a beautiful gold sequined dress that would look extremely flattering on her, and turned to Marinette with an expression she could only describe as a mixture of hesitance and defensiveness and defiance.

“No,” she said. “Sabrina… doesn’t have opinions, or at least doesn’t like expressing them around me in case hers are different from mine.”

“I have to be honest, Chloé,” Marinette said. “We’ve not really disagreed much, either, since we’ve been shopping.”

By the expression on her face, Chloé seemed to find that as jarring as she did. “We have disagreed though, but even then your opinions have been… reasonable. It’s different with Sabrina. She changes her opinion hoping to match mine, and that’s not really helpful.”

“Gee,” Marinette said, sarcastically. “I can’t imagine why Sabrina would be afraid of disagreeing with you.” It was an unfair thing to say, but all this agreeing with Chloé was freaking her out.

Chloé narrowed her eyes, but then sighed and shrugged. 

“Yes, you’ve already told me I’m a hateful brat… oh, and the worst person alive.” Her voice held that hint of sadness Marinette heard earlier at school. She didn’t like that she was the cause of it, even if she was telling Chloé the truth about Sabrina. **Maybe** Marinette had overreacted when she had yelled at Chloé, but really she couldn’t understand why Chloé even cared.

“Well, even if you **were** the worst person alive,” Marinette said softly as she approached closer to Chloé, so they wouldn’t be overheard. “And you aren’t so I’m sorry for saying that… but even if you were, you’ve got a great eye for fashion. And I’m also sorry I called you a hateful brat. That’s… I have no excuse. It was mean and horrible.”

Chloé seemed disarmed by Marinette’s quiet sincerity and smiled. It wasn’t her usual smug smirk. It was genuine and small, and it struck Marinette that it seemed somewhat too fragile for the proud blonde. She almost made a crack about the Chloé’s skirt again just to get back to their familiar, antagonistic dynamic, but she didn’t want to risk losing that smile. It was… nice.

Chloé hesitated for a brief moment before speaking again. “You have a great eye for fashion, too.”

As she felt herself return the smile, the silence between them started to go from sweet to alarmingly heavy, so she switched subjects quickly. 

“This dress will go well with your figure, Chloé,” she said, running a hand over the fabric. 

Chloé seemed just as relieved to turn to another topic. 

“Yes,” she agreed, motioning a small, thin salesgirl over and addressing her. “Sophie, I think this is it.” Chloé indicated the gold dress as she spoke. Marinette was unsurprised that Chloé was on a first name basis with the staff here. Chloé had been recognized instantly in every store they had gone into this afternoon with the exception of the second one.

The sales girl gathered up the dress and let Chloé know the seamstress would be ready in a couple of minutes to alter it for her.

Chloé looked over Marinette’s shoulder. “What about that one for you, Marinette?”

Marinette turned. The dress Chloé indicated was a white dress with a pattern of dark blue flowers beginning on the left shoulder and splashing down towards the skirt, which flared at the waist.

It was… perfect. Exactly the dress that Marinette would have picked herself.

Chloé was called to the back part of the shop behind a curtain to begin her fitting, so Marinette examined the dress closely. Every detail screamed that it was made for her… and then she saw the price tag. 

It was €1800… 

Ha. Ha ha. Yeah. **Only** €1800. What’s €1800 between not-friends? 

Her parents’ bakery might turn that much profit in three months. If they were lucky.

€1800!

Marinette felt a bit faint. She tried to call out to Chloé and let her know this was a Very Bad Idea (capitals intended), and all that came out was a strangled squeak. 

Chloé heard her, though, and she shouted back. “Marinette? Are you alright?”

When there was no answer because Marinette was in the middle of trying to reboot her brain, Chloé continued.

“Marinette! Stop looking at the price tag!” Her voice was flat and annoyed. Marinette wasn’t sure how Chloé knew what Marinette was doing, but Chloé seemed to have an instinct at the moment for what she was thinking. “Sophie, go help her before she faints.”

In a heartbeat, the sales girl was back out in the front of the store taking Marinette’s hand and leading her to a seat with reassurances that the dress would be lovely on her, complimenting her eyes and complexion perfectly.

The girl had a very soothing voice. Marinette idly wondered if she often had to talk customers off the ledge once they saw a price tag.

Chloé’s voice pulled Marinette out of her thoughts. 

“Sophie, is she okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am, she’ll be fine!” Sophie called back. She punctuated the statement with a kind smile and a firm squeeze of Marinette’s hand.

Marinette smiled back and stood. She needed to put a stop to this. She couldn’t let Chloé spend almost two thousand Euros on her. Striding to the back of the store, she ignored the startled warning from Sophie and pushed past the curtain.

Marinette had made a huge mistake.

A very naked Chloé cried out, and Marinette instantly turned scarlet. 

Well… she wasn’t precisely naked. 

Probably. 

Hopefully. 

Marinette was pretty sure Chloé had her bra and panties on, but Marinette had averted her eyes so quickly she couldn’t confirm that for certain, and she sure wasn’t about to look up and check. Marinette decided that examining her own shoes was the absolute best and necessary course of action. For the rest of time probably. Never looking anywhere else again.

But yes… naked Chloé or close enough to it. Wow. Several competing thoughts flashed through her mind. First, she felt stupid for not warning Chloé she was coming behind the curtain. Second, omigosh, Chloé was **hot** —all long, lean legs and bronzed skin that looked like it would be warm to the touch. That incredibly confusing thought was accompanied by an urge to compliment the tall blonde, which would be beyond awkward even by her high standards, and she crushed that third thought immediately. Fourth, she had seen Chloé turn what she expected was the exact same shade of red she herself had turned (Could someone’s entire body blush? Marinette thought she or Chloé might be the first person to accomplish that particular feat.) and Marinette was certain a very embarrassed and nearly nude Chloé was going to kill her any moment now.

“Marinette!” Chloé said, her voice high and embarrassed. Marinette realized she was just standing there staring at her own feet like an idiot. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the seamstress covering Chloé up.

“Sorry!” Marinette exclaimed. “Bad idea! Sorry!” She tried to turn and run without looking up, which proved to be another bad idea as she tripped over her own feet. Luckily, a trailing Sophie caught her and helped her to the other side of the curtain.

With that accomplished, Marinette sat and tried to focus on her breathing… because breathing was good. And necessary. Yes.

“I’ve got your measurements, Miss Bourgeois, and it won’t take but a few minutes,” the seamstress said from the other side of the curtain. Marinette thought the woman sounded amused, and for once wouldn’t have been annoyed to hear Chloé verbally blast someone.

“Fine, I’ll… um… send Marinette back then,” Chloé responded. No verbal blasting. If anything, Chloé sounded as shaken as Marinette felt.

A few moments later, the blonde came back to the front. Sophie made herself very busy with some fabric at the very front of the shop and was pointedly not looking at the pair. Marinette looked up, wishing very badly that she could force herself to stop blushing.

Chloé’s face was still bright pink as well. The two of them stared at each other silently, Marinette looking up at the nervous Chloé standing in front of her.

Marinette tried coming up with some sort of apology, but all she could do was stutter as badly as she ever had when trying to talk to Adrien (or worse, because she had never seen Adrien wearing as little as Chloé had been.)

Chloé turned redder by the second under Marinette’s gaze as the brunette made a fruitless attempt to stammer out an apology. Finally, Chloé managed to clear her throat and regain some composure.

“Sophie,” Chloé said, voice wavering slightly. “Assist Marinette, and if her dress is suitable, wrap everything, please.” She said this with eyes firmly fixed on Marinette’s, who was also unable to tear her eyes away from Chloé’s.

Chloé tapped her fingers nervously against her hip. “I’m going to… take a short walk. I’ll be back soon, Marinette.”

She didn’t wait for Marinette’s reply and beat a hasty retreat out the door.

Marinette barely registered being led to the back where the seamstress in quick order undressed her, measured her, and fitted her.

She stood in place dazed, and the seamstress—who kept chuckling to herself in a very inappropriate manner in Marinette’s opinion—was almost finished when she heard the front door open, and Marinette could hear what was unmistakably Chloé’s voice speaking in low tones to Sophie although she couldn’t make out what was said.

Chloé thankfully did not repeat Marinette’s mistake, and after dressing, the brunette made her way to the front with as much dignity as possible.

Two prettily wrapped packages and a bag sat on the counter. Marinette picked them up to carry without being asked. She figured she should contribute something to this trip other than embarrassing both of them, but it occurred to her there was one package too many.

“Chloé, why’s there an extra bag?” she asked, still feeling shaky.

“Hm?” Chloé said, looking up from settling her account with Sophie. She avoided Marinette’s eyes, which Marinette took to mean she was still feeling flustered, too. “Oh, shoes, Marinette. We can’t go barefoot, can we?” She laughed weakly, and quickly turned her attention back to Sophie.

Marinette looked in the bag curiously. Both packages were the same. She opened one and it was obviously meant for her. The dark blue pumps were gorgeous, although she wasn’t quite sure if she could manage to stay upright with what she estimated to be 120 mm heels. Oh, and there was the small matter of the shoes being Christian Louboutins, meaning they cost at least half as much as the dress did.

The brunette willed herself to breathe evenly and steadily, so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. The amount of money Chloé was spending on her was obscene.

Chloé finished her business and stood in front of Marinette looking as jittery as Marinette felt. Between the money spent and the incident in the fitting room, the brunette felt she had an idea what being in freefall without a parachute was like. She guessed Chloé felt much the same.

“If you’re ready, Chloé?” Marinette mumbled, and Chloé nodded stiffly.

“Marinette, would you like an ice cream?” Chloé asked as they went out the door, her voice an octave too high to be natural. “It’s very hot, and I think I’ve gotten too much sun. The heat must be affecting me.”

It was a feeble rationalization, but Marinette seized on it like a lifeline. 

“Yes, that’d be great! I think the sun’s gotten to me, too!” she said with a smile she hoped didn’t appear forced. 

Hot day. Too much sun. Maybe that was it. Maybe she had a mild case of heatstroke. Getting chummy with Chloé… buying outfits that cost more than every other article of clothing she owned combined… seeing Chloé in her underwear and thinking the other girl was… yes, heatstroke. Definitely. No need to finish **that** thought.

They found a nearby ice cream stand, and Marinette bought ice creams for both of them. Chloé made some small noise of protest, but Marinette gave her the best glare she could muster. She needed to feel like she was contributing. It was important to reestablish that she was in control of herself.

After purchasing Chloé a cup of vanilla with sour cherries and a small scoop of chocolate for herself, they found a bench in the shade and sat quietly watching the people walk by.

Marinette glanced over at Chloé as subtly as she could while wondering how to start some sort of normal conversation. It would have helped if the two girls had ever had one of those before, but they hadn’t, so she was kind of stuck.

Chloé for her part very studiously examined the ice cream she was eating.

That didn’t do Marinette much good. The silence was starting to make her edgier than she already was, and she felt like she might vibrate out of her own skin any second. 

She was about to lead with something along the lines of “So, you like cherries?” which was probably the lamest thing she could say when she noticed Chloé’s expression had changed.

Chloé was looking into the distance with her lips pursed like her cherries were more bitter than sour, and her eyes had a hard quality to them. Marinette followed Chloé’s line of sight to find two men laughing and holding hands as they walked. They were obviously very happy together and one of them leaned over for a kiss.

Marinette had a sinking, horrible feeling that Chloé might find the two men offensive, and she felt anger rising inside her. She could tolerate a lot, but not bigotry. 

She steeled herself to tell Chloé off once and for all. She wasn’t going to put up with this for a second, and she had just opened her mouth to say she was going home, even if it meant they failed the assignment, when Chloé surprised her.

“I’ll never have that,” Chloé said softly, as if she was speaking to herself. If Marinette had thought that Chloé had perhaps sounded sad earlier in the day, there was no mistaking the raw despair in her voice now.

Oh. Marinette felt disgusted with herself for leaping to such a horrid conclusion. She was going to have to really think hard about some of her assumptions regarding her classmate. 

Instinctively, she reached over and took Chloé’s free hand and gave a reassuring squeeze. The blonde’s hand was warm and soft and pleasant to hold. As Chloé fixed her eyes on a point in the distance, clearly hiding any emotion, Marinette wondered why the two men had provoked such a reaction in her, when they’d seen several couples shopping together over the course of the day. Not that it mattered, when the girl was clearly in distress.

“Sure you will,” she said almost as quietly as Chloé had spoken.

Chloé seemed startled at Marinette’s words and pulled her hand back. Marinette could see her mentally scrambling to regain her composure. Too quickly for Marinette’s liking, Chloé put on her usual haughty smile, but for the first time in all the years that she had known Chloé, Marinette wondered if there was any truth in that smile—if the blonde was nearly as vapid and self-absorbed as she projected.

“Of course,” Chloé said smugly. “Adrien and I are **destined** to be together after all.” She leveled a defiant stare at Marinette.

Unfortunately for Chloé, Marinette wasn’t impressed. She placidly returned the other girl’s stare while slowly eating her ice cream.

“This is the part where you either get flustered or insult me, Marinette,” Chloé said crossly. She also returned to eating her ice cream.

“I’m not going to take the bait, Chloé,” Marinette responded. It was a gamble, she thought, to let Chloé know she suspected that Chloé’s bravado was forced.

“That’s no fun,” Chloé complained. “Why are you always so… **nice**?”

Marinette snorted. “I’m not. I’ve already called you names today, and I’ve fought with you plenty.”

“Most of the time you're nice, though,” Chloé muttered. “You’re such a goody two-shoes.”

“I thought I was a ‘mousy suck up?’” asked, injecting as much sarcasm as she could into the question.

“I’m not apologizing for that,” Chloé said.

“Good,” Marinette said with a sly grin. “This day’s been weird enough already.”

“I agree,” Chloé said with a small laugh, and she gave Marinette the prettiest, most genuine smile she had ever seen, and that was all kinds of alarming to Marinette. 

“I don’t understand you,” Marinette said after a moment. Not that she needed that moment to adjust to the fact that she’d just thought of her hated rival’s smile as “pretty.” It had been a very confusing afternoon. Anyone would be a little confused by this point.

Chloé laughed again before settling back onto the bench looking wistful. “I’m okay with that.”

“The Chloé I’ve been hanging out and shopping with is someone I would like to try and be friends with.” Marinette meant it, too. She wasn’t sure she could get all the way to considering Chloé a friend at this point, but she would be willing to try.

Chloé’s smile faltered. “I don’t think that’s possible, Marinette.”

“Why not?” Marinette asked. “I mean… I’ve had a lot of fun this afternoon. I think you did, too. Okay, maybe I screwed up a bit going into the dressing room without thinking, but I’ve enjoyed this.” She felt the color rise in her cheeks again, and she saw Chloé’s cheeks brighten too. 

Marinette decided to not bring up the dressing room incident again. With anyone. Ever.

“Marinette,” Chloé said, a warning clear in her voice. “Please don’t ask why. Anything but that.”

Marinette tilted her head. She really wanted to know why Chloé tried so hard to be such a jerk. She didn’t think she would get anywhere if she pressed too hard right now, but she couldn’t help but try to figure the other girl out.

“So, this is the real you?” Marinette asked.

Chloé raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, Marinette.”

“I think you’re a lot deeper than you let on, Chloé,” Marinette ventured, hoping her companion didn’t shut down again.

Chloé sighed and looked into the distance as if weighing how she should proceed. Finally, she spoke saying, “One of the reasons I’ve never wanted to be your friend is because you’re more observant than the rest of the people in our class.”

“That’s… Well, actually Chloé, that’s sort of twisted.” At Chloé’s annoyed look, Marinette quickly continued. “I mean, it’s twisted logically, not morally. Why not just be yourself and make friends? Wouldn’t you be happier that way?”

Chloé stirred her spoon in her quickly melting ice cream. “If it’s alright, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, filing the line of conversation away to bring up again later. “But can we at least call a truce when we’re not at school? The situation is exhausting enough already and we’re sort of stuck with each other.”

Chloé nodded. “I like that idea. But at school, I’m going to be the person I always am.”

“That has to be hard on you,” Marinette said with no trace of sarcasm. She hoped she wasn’t pushing too much.

Chloé nodded. “It is, but…” she trailed off with a shrug. She stood and threw her cup in the trash. “Well, we should go get ready for the party.”

Marinette stood as well. She noticed a small shopping bag that Chloé was carrying that she hadn’t seen before. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the bag.

“Hm?” Chloé responded before looking down. “Oh, I picked up some jewelry for tonight while your dress was being altered. I found a necklace that will go wonderfully with your dress and your eyes!” 

She seemed delighted. Marinette was torn between being terrified of Chloé spending even more money and being flattered that Chloé was trying in her own over-the-top way.

She settled for humor. Alya always told her humor was a good way to deal with stress. “Jewelry, Chloé? People are going to get ideas if you keep buying me pretty clothes and jewelry.” 

She hoped she sounded confident and not totally on edge.

Chloé smirked while looking her up and down from head to toe, making Marinette feel like she was featured on a dessert menu. 

Marinette tried to not think about out why she felt a bit light-headed under Chloé’s appraising heavy-lidded gaze and hoped the blonde didn’t notice her gulp.

Chloé smiled even wider. She had noticed. “Oh, Marinette…” she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper “You could only be so lucky.” 

She winked, exuding confidence that put Chat Noir to shame, and turned away, striding confidently towards the waiting limo.

Marinette worried her face might burst into flames. What had she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome again to a new chapter! My beta reader is already vetting Chapter 4 for final edits and publication on Friday, and I've completed the first pass of Chapter 8 meaning I should start work on Chapter 9 by Wednesday at the latest. I do have one concern, though. I think I'm going to have to bump the rating up to M, and I really hope that doesn't offend! I hate changing the rating midstream, but Chapters 8 and 9 up the ante so to speak. I'll refrain from other spoilers!
> 
> So you've had a chance to see Chloé and Marinette find some common ground. Next up, it's party time! 
> 
> If anyone's interested, I riffed off the following two images for the dresses although they're not exact matches: 
> 
> http://imgur.com/iisq3SV
> 
> http://imgur.com/oIIEABu
> 
> I'm also including an image of the Marinette's shoes:
> 
> http://imgur.com/DD4pmLT


	4. The Beginning of Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you begin to see that your enemy is suffering, that is the beginning of insight.
> 
> \- _Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life_ (1992)
> 
> Song Choice: “New Soul” by Yael Naim

Chloé turned and walked quickly towards the limo, already regretting that she had so blatantly flirted with Marinette. To cover her embarrassment, she busied herself with her phone, sending a text to the concierge at Le Grand Paris where she lived to have some food brought up to her room for her and Marinette when they arrived.

As the car navigated the streets of Paris, she could feel Marinette’s eyes on her from time to time, but Chloé kept her focus on the phone she was now only pretending to use. If she couldn’t come up with something to distract herself from the building tension, it was going to be a long ride. She had no idea what she had been thinking. Admittedly, she had gotten carried away and hadn’t been thinking at all or she wouldn’t have given in to her attraction. Her inexcusable behavior was just a symptom of the deeper problem that Marinette posed for her, which was how **good** it felt to flirt with Marinette.

And that feeling reminded her why she had been pushing the girl away for years, desperate to make the brunette hate her if at all possible just to avoid what was happening today. She couldn’t afford to slip up again, but she feared she wasn’t going to be able to help herself—and that scared her. This was entirely too close to what had happened with Angelique. Even the simple act of recalling that name was a stab in the heart. It couldn’t happen again. Chloé wouldn’t allow it.

For the first part of the ride, she was successful in her attempt to ignore her companion, but ultimately, Chloé couldn’t keep pretending to ignore Marinette after the fifth or six sidelong glance and sat down her phone.

“What is it?” she asked Marinette, hoping this was something straightforward, so she could go back to the pretense she was using her phone to deal with pressing matters.

“I’m nervous about tonight,” Marinette said. 

Chloé wasn’t sure that was the whole truth. She suspected Marinette was shocked at Chloé’s brazen flirtation, but if the girl wanted to play it off as nerves, who was she to argue? In fact, she was thankful.

“Don’t be,” Chloé said nonchalantly. “It’s just a party.”

“I have no idea what to say to anyone,” Marinette countered.

Okay, perhaps Marinette was actually skittish about the party. Chloé shrugged, but tempered it with a smile. “It’s their loss if they can’t find anything to talk about with you.”

Marinette seemed to accept this and Chloé could feel the waves of nervous energy that had been emanating from the other girl recede. She didn’t like what it meant that she felt thrilled to be a source of comfort to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“We’ll be together at the party, right, Chloé? I mean… I don’t want to be a burden but…” Marinette trailed off.

Chloé understood. The girl was seriously out of her comfort zone. As recently as yesterday, Chloé would have been scheming to use this situation to embarrass Marinette, hopefully sending her rival running, never to return.

But she’d never truly seen Marinette as an enemy, had she?

And one single day spent in her company was tearing at all the walls Chloé had built over years. 

Now, the idea of plotting against and hurting Marinette caused Chloé actual physical pain in her stomach. Chloé wished she had the strength to pretend it was the ice cream disagreeing with her. But no, the only thing sick about her was this stupid fixation on someone she could never have.

She was not going to give in. She was Chloé Bourgeois, daughter of the mayor of Paris, and she had iron self-control. She had willpower… she had determination… she had… she had… she had no power to resist those bluebell eyes looking at her with such innocent hope.

Chloé really hated herself sometimes.

“I can’t let you wander off. You might trip over someone and cause an international incident,” Chloé responded, lightly teasing the brunette about her tendency towards clumsiness. She was disappointed that she couldn’t bring herself to add more of an edge to the statement, to reestablish some emotional distance.

Marinette rolled her eyes and said, “Ha. Ha.” 

Chloé gave up. She was glad Marinette felt better. Why not just enjoy that before she made herself sick fighting it? 

Her phone buzzed signaling a received text. The concierge was letting her know dinner was waiting for them. Chloé silenced the phone and sat it down again.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked.

“Hm? Oh, I ordered us a light dinner. We don’t want to eat while we’re at the party.”

“Why not? Won’t they have hors d’oeuvres?”

“They do, but those ruin your breath. Best to avoid them.” She—and Marinette since she was Chloé’s de facto plus-one—needed to make a good impression. Papa had important guests attending.

“Oh,” Marinette replied, surprised. “Thanks for ordering dinner in that case.”

Chloé made a noncommittal noise and looked out the window. Of course the girl was grateful, she thought sarcastically. It was only polite to be grateful when the person who had tormented you for years was now offering to feed you and take you to a fancy party in a gorgeous dress where you were guaranteed to turn every damn head in the room.

Jealousy over attention paid to Marinette. That was another stupid, unwanted emotion to add to the list. Chloé tapped her fingers rapidly against her phone screen as she resolved to purge herself of each and every one of these feelings, no matter what it took.

“The correct response would be ‘You’re welcome,’” Marinette said, teasing.

Chloé cut her eyes towards Marinette in what she hoped would be a dismissive gesture, but she found her lips curling into a smile of their own accord despite Chloé repeatedly telling herself she had to quit doing that. It was like Marinette had magic powers specifically designed to pull Chloé in and disarm her.

Marinette smiled, too, saying, “Baby steps, Chloé. Baby steps. Soon you’ll be saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’ all by yourself without any prompting.”

Chloé rolled her eyes and gave up on trying to act annoyed, and they rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the hotel.

After arriving, the two girls quickly ate a small dinner. Chloé didn’t leave Marinette time to let her nerves get the better of her again, keeping up a patter of shallow small talk while they ate. Shallow was good. Hopefully if she kept it up over the next few weeks, Marinette would fall back into thinking of Chloé as a self-absorbed snob and nothing more. Then life would return to normal.

In the midst of their meal, Marinette expressed doubt in her ability to successfully walk in the Louboutins, so Chloé gave her a quick lesson on walking in stiletto heels. Truthfully, she knew she shouldn’t have bought the shoes without checking first if Marinette would be comfortable in them, and the store would have held them for her while she checked… but when she had seen the shoes sitting in the window display, her stomach had done a somersault at the idea of Marinette wearing them.

And Chloé had been right. Seeing Marinette in the pumps was intoxicating, especially as the shorter girl was suddenly several centimeters taller than Chloé when wearing them, which in Chloé’s defense, she hadn’t realized was a thing that might affect her until the very moment she found herself looking **up** into Marinette’s eyes as the girl excitedly hugged her after successfully walking from one end of Chloé’s suite and back. For a brief second, Chloé felt she might faint going by how light-headed and woozy she was while in Marinette’s arms.

She decided it was just another item to eliminate from her mind once she figured out how to stop gushing over Marinette. That was going to happen any minute now, she was sure. Her effort at suppressing her fascination with the brunette wasn’t helped by how surprisingly quickly Marinette had mastered walking in heels as she sauntered back and forth through Chloé’s suite, occasionally doing a little twirl to prove she had the hang of it. She was unfortunately more athletic than Chloé had believed. That was another problem. Chloé had always found athletic girls… interesting. 

As she deliberated on the subject, Chloé decided that most of Marinette’s clumsiness happened when the girl was nervous. Since her classmate wasn’t stumbling and tripping constantly in 120 mm heels despite having no experience in them, Marinette felt at least somewhat comfortable around Chloé. That was a good thing, Chloé reminded herself. If Marinette was comfortable around her—and not a stammering, jittery mess like she was around Adrien—then it confirmed that Marinette wasn’t attracted to her.

Although if that was such a good thing, why did it make Chloé feel hollow inside?

Chloé wrestled that thought down as she and Marinette finished their meals. As soon as they were done, Chloé ushered Marinette into the bathroom, handed her a bathrobe and towel from the linen closet, and grabbed an armful of products from underneath the sink, setting them on the counter. Then she leaned in close to Marinette, startling the brunette, who instinctively pulled back only for Chloé to take her firmly but gently by the arm.

“Hold still,” the blonde said. She continued to examine Marinette’s face from a couple of centimeters away. Then she took a lock of Marinette’s hair and repeated the process. Finally, she took Marinette’s wrist and held her arm up. Again, she put her face a couple of centimeters from Marinette’s skin.

“Um, Chloé?” Marinette asked, jittery. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, I’m seeing which shampoo and cleansers you need precisely. You have nice skin,” she added at the end without realizing she was speaking aloud until Marinette emitted a startled squeak. 

Why did she say that? What kept possessing her to say such stupid, thoughtless things that would only make the situation worse? Sorcery. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a witch. It was the only possible explanation.

“Thanks?” Marinette responded, either mentally off-balance due to Chloé complimenting her at all or due to how oddly Chloé put the compliment.

Chloé looked up, unable to stop a playful smirk from forming. Her thoughts and actions were betraying her, and the alarming part was she cared less and less that it was happening as the day went on.

She let Marinette loose, selected several bottles from the wide assortment on the counter, and thrust them at the brunette.

“This is one is for your hair, this is for your face, and this is your body wash,” Chloé said, quickly indicating each in turn.

Marinette took the bottles, and before she could protest or ask any questions, Chloé pushed a luffa at her and pointed to the shower.

“There’s a fresh toothbrush and toothpaste in the top left drawer of the sink,” she said as she went out the door, shutting it behind her and leaning back against it to catch her breath.

She could hear a muffled repeat of “Thanks?” from behind the closed door and bit back a comment on Marinette’s bewildered repetition. It was kind of adorable actually.

Chloé drew in a deep breath as soon as she heard the shower turn on. Now that she had a moment to herself, she closed her eyes, shook out her hands, and turned to the mirror. She undressed and put on her own bathrobe, and busied herself with fixing her hair. She examined herself in her vanity mirror trying to decide on a hairstyle for the evening, working from years of experience doing her own hair and makeup. Having made up her mind, she took up her curling iron and worked quickly from one section of hair to the next. She wanted to be done before Marinette was out of the shower.

The idea of Marinette watching her get ready made her feel a bit queasy. She didn’t like appearing to make that kind of effort, which was why she rarely if ever did anything special for school. Her signature ponytail was fine for that dreary place.

In short order, she had her hair pinned up in back, forming a mass of curls. She had left two long strands hanging down and braided them before pinning the braids across her head in two rows.

Stepping back, she examined her work in the mirror and was satisfied. Even better, Marinette had just turned off the shower, meaning Chloé had met the goal she had set for herself.

A few minutes later, Marinette emerged from the bathroom, her hair wet and curling around her face.

Chloé felt her mouth go dry, and she mentally berated herself. Now was not the time.

“Wow, Chloé!” Marinette exclaimed. “Your hair looks beautiful!”

Chloé felt herself go a bit giddy over the compliment, so she cleared her throat and spoke with as much of a calm, even demeanor as she could muster.

“It’s nothing really,” she replied, sheepishly. Chloé felt her voice sounded an octave too high for her liking. “Would you… um… like me to do you?” 

What. That was… no.

“I mean your hair! Ha ha! Do your… hair… Yes?” Chloé finished weakly.

Maybe if she threw herself off the balcony she could salvage the night.

Marinette had turned scarlet, hopefully more because of Chloé’s rambling than anything else. The brunette smiled and squeaked out something Chloé decided was a yes. 

Chloé quickly led Marinette to the seat in front of the vanity and stood behind her. She grabbed a comb and started working the tangles out of Marinette’s hair. Over the past year, Marinette had grown her hair out a little, and Chloé decided the girl would look nice with a side-braid. Her hair had a wavy quality fresh out of the shower.

The rhythmic combing seemed to calm both girls, and Chloé idly fantasized about doing this for Marinette every day.

She saw in the mirror that Marinette had closed her eyes, and her face had taken on a dreamy look. Marinette breathed out a relaxed sigh which made Chloé’s insides feel like molten lava.

She was just going to ignore that sensation. Oh, yes. Definitely ignoring it… 

Chloé gently sat the comb down and began running her fingers through Marinette’s silky hair, gathering and carefully arranging the jet black strands into a thick braid. 

She realized she was allowing her fingers to linger a moment too long on Marinette’s scalp each time she swept more locks of hair into the braid. She told herself she had to stop this. It was wrong on many levels. She had been fighting against this attraction for years, and it was wrong to do this without Marinette’s permission—although hadn’t Marinette given her permission to do her hair?

Yes, Exactly. Marinette had given Chloé permission to fix her hair, not creep on her. 

Chloé felt intense shame wash over her. Most people would insist that Chloé Bourgeois couldn’t feel that emotion, but Chloé simply took that as a compliment to the façade she had constructed. She lived with shame every waking moment and in every dream she could remember, too.

With such dark thoughts weighing on her, she couldn’t help but glance at the picture of her mother sitting on the vanity. Not for the first time, Chloé wished she still had the portrait of her mother that used to hang in her room. It had taken some slight damage in one of the frequent monster attacks Chloé endured, and despite Ladybug's powers restoring it to perfection, Papa had decided it was best to remove the painting and keep it in a safer place. Now, all she had left was this photo taken a few months before her maman found out she had cancer.

Marinette had, unnoticed by Chloé, opened her eyes by this point although they had a glassy, distant quality, and she had noticed Chloé looking at the picture.

“That’s your mother, right?” Marinette asked before meeting Chloé’s gaze in the mirror. 

Chloé couldn’t shift her pained expression to a more neutral one before Marinette noticed.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Chloé!” Marinette said quickly. “I forgot your maman—” 

“It’s okay, Marinette,” Chloé said, cutting the brunette off. “She passed away a long time ago.” She hoped she sounded reassuring.

She stroked Marinette’s scalp one last time, gathering up the last few locks. Chloé told herself this was to comfort Marinette, but it was as much to comfort herself.

“There,” she said, quietly. “All done.”

Marinette looked in the mirror and smiled. “It’s wonderful, Chloé! You’re really talented!”

Chloé blushed, but didn’t care. This was harmless. There was no danger in this compliment.

“I mean it, Chloé!” Marinette continued, mistaking Chloé’s sudden fit of shyness for disbelief. “Your fingers are magical!”

Both girls realized the other implication of Marinette’s words at the same time.

“Y-yes, well…” Chloé managed to stutter out. 

Marinette looked mortified. “ I mean… I mean… detail work! Like you said about the frog!”

Chloé grabbed her dress and nearly sprinted to the bathroom.

“You can change out here,” she said without looking back. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”

Safely in the bathroom, Chloé held a hand to her chest and concentrated on her breathing. She was being the opposite of smooth, and it really bothered her. If she was going to commit social suicide, was it too much to ask if she could at least look cool doing it?

Okay, time to shake it off. She slipped out of her bathrobe and splashed some cold water on her face to focus. She looked into the mirror willing herself to composure. She heard a tapping noise and looked down at her left hand. She was doing it again. Her lack of self-control was appalling.

Chloé ran through her calming breath routine, and then she slipped on her dress… and realized she was going to need help with the zipper. Perfect. Just perfect.

“Marinette?” Chloé called out. “Would you mind helping with my zipper?”

The brunette came through the door with her dress already on. She had somehow—Chloé had no idea how—managed to zip her own dress. She was absolutely stunning. 

Chloé was suddenly glad she didn’t need to speak again in order to get help with her zipper. Her mouth felt dry like it was filled with cotton.

“Sure,” Marinette said cheerfully as she rounded behind Chloé.

Chloé stared into the mirror and immediately noticed an issue as Marinette began working the zipper closed. 

“Oh, no!” she cried. This was a disaster! Chloé stomped her foot and groaned in frustration.

Marinette’s head popped up over Chloé’s shoulder as she finished zipping her up. 

“What’s wr— **Oh**.” she finished, and Chloé thought the girl sounded a little awestruck, which would have been extremely flattering in other circumstances.

“Yes,” Chloé answered flatly, because if one were to say the dress hadn’t been fitted correctly in the bust, one would be **very** correct. It was indecently tight.

“I don’t understand,” Marinette said sympathetically. “How did the seamstress get the measurements so incorrect?”

Chloé sighed and regretted that action as soon as she did it. She was a few millimeters away from a humiliating wardrobe malfunction every time she breathed in.

“I wear…” Chloé began but couldn’t bring herself to say it. She hated talking about why she wore certain items. People would ask questions. People might find out the truth. **Marinette** might find out the truth.

And Marinette—sweet, sweet Marinette—just watched her with innocent concern.

Chloé scrunched her face in fury, wrinkles be damned. “I wear,” she tried again. “A minimizer bra.”

Marinette blinked and looked like she wanted to ask why that was a big deal, but was afraid to.

“I don’t like being ogled,” Chloé supplied. It was a lie. She didn’t really mind being stared at as looks were a weapon when properly utilized, but she hoped that Marinette didn’t think about it too hard. The truth was that Chloé found comfort in having at least one piece of restrictive clothing to constantly remind herself that she needed to maintain self-control. “I mean…” she continued. “Unless it’s on my own terms, and all the gross, hormonal boys at school… Well, let’s just say I’m not interested.”

Chloé looked at the dress again in the mirror hoping against hope that the dress might magically resize itself. It hadn’t. She pushed down an urge to scream. Everything was ruined.

“How long until we have to be at the party?” Marinette asked, still looking over Chloé’s shoulder into the mirror. Chloé could tell the brunette was trying not to stare, like a drooling teenage boy would, but her eyes kept drifting to Chloé’s chest and the ill-fitting dress.

Chloé was split between wanting to hide in the shower until Marinette left or alternatively maybe just for a moment breathing in deep and throwing her shoulders back to give Marinette a good look at what Chloé had to offer… which was insane… because she had lost her mind. That was literally the only explanation that made sense.

Refocusing, Chloé quietly said, “I can’t go to the party like this, Marinette.”

“No, you can’t. One wrong move and you’ll pop out of that dress like a cork out of a champagne bottle,” Marinette agreed with a frown. “But I can fix this. How long do we have?”

Chloé had no idea how Marinette intended to pull off a miracle, but she answered anyway. “An hour and a half until we’re past ‘fashionably late’ and into ‘bad manners.’”

Marinette nodded and ran out of the bathroom. What was she doing?

Chloé followed carefully to avoid what Marinette had aptly described as popping out of her dress only to see the brunette on the phone demanding scissors, thread, and a needle from the front desk.

“No,” Marinette said. “This is an emergency. I want that thread in Ms. Bourgeois’ room in ten minutes… Yes, I said Ms. Bourgeois… Okay, thanks.” 

With that, she hung up the phone and turned to Chloé. “They’ll be here in five minutes,” she said. “Your name gets results.”

“But will you have time, Marinette?” Chloé asked.

Marinette smiled smugly. “Do you think all I do is sketch? I know my way around a needle.”

Chloé tried not to laugh. If she did, she risked giving Marinette a show the other girl really didn’t want. She also found herself resisting the urge to kiss Marinette. Out of gratitude. Certainly not because Marinette’s lips were so amazingly pink like cotton candy and looked softer than clouds. No. Not that. Gratitude.

“I appreciate this,” she said instead of doing something she would regret. “This party is very important for Papa.”

Marinette’s smile was warm and she led Chloé to the bathroom again. “Switch back into your bathrobe, okay?”

Chloé nodded.

Marinette looked hesitant, finally saying, “You don’t have any reason to feel embarrassed. You’re… uh… you’ve got a great figure.” 

Chloé shook her head, and closed the door with a wry grin on her face she hoped Marinette didn’t see. She looked in the mirror and agreed with the sentiment Marinette was trying very sweetly to get across. If this was a different kind of party… Well no, this dress wasn’t capable of lasting a full evening in its current state.

She slipped the dress off and put her robe back on. By the time she came out, Marinette had already received her sewing supplies. The brunette eagerly started to work, but paused.

“Chloé,” she said cautiously. “I can estimate… or I can measure.”

“I trust you either way, Marinette.” She had given up on trying to act like she despised the girl. All she could hope for right now was to keep her hormones under control and figure out how to cope with this whole situation... later. Hopefully much later. Like when they were forty. Or never. That would work, too.

Of course, if Marinette did decide to play it safe and measure, Chloé wasn’t sure she would survive having Marinette’s hands all over her like that.

Marinette nodded, looking relieved. She bit her lower lip in thought and said, “Estimating it is then. The dress looked to be about four or five centimeters too tight…”

Chloé nodded. “That makes sense considering the bra.”

Marinette, a girl of delicate, petite features (unlike Chloé who was more… robust) scrunched her eyes in confusion.

“It takes five centimeters off,” Chloé said, clarifying. 

“Do you want to just wear the bra?” Marinette asked. “That might be easiest.”

Chloé shook her head. “No, that won’t work.” She walked over to her hamper where it sat just inside the door of her closet and picked the bra out. She held it up for Marinette to see.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s… Wow, that’s sturdy, isn’t it?” Marinette eyed the bra like it was some odd Victorian contraption.

“Well,” Chloé said, teasing. “It does need to be, considering. Unfortunately under that dress about half of the bra would be on display…” She finished, motioning to her chest thankful that everything was safely wrapped in a fleece bathrobe.

Marinette laughed nervously, trying again not to stare. Chloé really appreciated how considerate her friend was being. And she was suddenly glad to think of Marinette as a friend.

The brunette had started to work on the dress, so Chloé left her to it, concentrating on putting on her makeup and calming down. Forty-five minutes later, Marinette was finished and Chloé once again changed in the bathroom, with some welcome zipper assistance from Marinette.

It was perfect.

For just a moment, Chloé hugged Marinette, before stepping back quickly, away from the feeling of her smooth shoulders and the faint scent of the body wash. “You’ve saved me,” she whispered.

Both girls cleared their throats, and Chloé noticed that Marinette wasn’t wearing any makeup.

“Do you want to use my makeup, Marinette?”

“Oh,” Marinette said, blushing. “I’m not really good with makeup.”

Chloé brightened. “Oh! Let me, please?” She really should do something nice for the girl.

Marinette nodded and in just a few minutes, Chloé had finished. Marinette’s complexion required a lighter touch than what she herself needed unless the girl wanted to go full Goth, but she felt proud of the job she had done tonight on short notice.

The brunette smiled brightly, looking in the vanity mirror. “You’ve made me look like a princess.”

Chloé thought it was no less than Marinette deserved, but she didn’t say that out loud. Instead, she scooped up the box containing the necklace she had bought for Marinette earlier.

“Now for the final touch,” she said, removing the necklace from the box. It was a very delicate silver thread with small diamonds and sapphires spaced evenly around it.

Marinette gasped, but Chloé just shushed her. She stepped behind Marinette and draped the necklace over her head. Her fingers brushed the skin of Marinette’s neck as she moved to fasten the clasp. Her light touch must have tickled the girl as a small giggle escaped the brunette, which Chloé decided was best ignored.

The two of them stood side by side admiring themselves in the full-length mirror beside Chloé’s vanity.

Chloé had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

She pulled herself out of thoughts that couldn’t go anywhere. Marinette was in love with Adrien, and he would easily fall in love with her once Marinette made her move. They would end up together, and Chloé had already spent too many years coming between them in what she now realized was a futile effort to protect herself from her own feelings.

“We should go,” Chloé said. Her voice was quiet and solemn. “I don’t want you too late for your début in high society.”

Marinette grinned. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go!”

When they arrived at the party, Chloé sensed that Marinette’s nerves might return, so she took her hand and gave her a reassuring wink, leading her into the Louvre. 

She needn’t have worried. Sure, Marinette was jittery at first… and there were a few unsteady moments where the brunette nearly lost her balance due to the height of her heels… but Marinette followed Chloé’s lead, and she was just as enchanting as Chloé knew she would be. A pattern quickly developed. Chloé would introduce her friend to a guest and within minutes, Marinette had charmed them completely. During the times where they were alone, Chloé and Marinette happily discussed what everyone was wearing and the paintings and the decorations and anything else that came to mind. 

This was shaping up to be the most perfect night of Chloé’s life. 

After about an hour—and a couple of glasses of champagne—she spotted her father across the room, and excused herself from Marinette.

“Marinette,” she said. “I see Papa. I’ll go see if he has some time for you to interview him.”

“Okay, I’ll wait here,” Marinette said, smiling. “I could use a break.”

“Too much?”

“No,” Marinette replied. “Just taking it all in. Everything is so beautiful tonight, Chloé.”

“Your feet are tired,” Chloé stated, confidently.

“My feet are tired,” Marinette confirmed, grinning.

Chloé’s return grin was genuine and eager. Marinette was right. Everything was beautiful. In fact, it was like a wonderful dream. She knew Marinette had deep feelings for Adrien, but she didn’t want to think about that while she had the brunette all to herself for one night. Besides, Marinette was enjoying herself in Chloé’s world. It was more than she had ever dared to hope.

She placed a kiss on Marinette’s cheek and laughed. “I’ll be right back!” she said, no longer caring if she was being too forward. It wasn’t as if she had to confess **everything** to Marinette. She could pass it off as exuberance due to the party.

As she made her way through the crowd, she saw a flicker of movement and wispy, white-blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. Chloé’s breath caught. It couldn’t be her, she told herself. Turning to find the source of her worry, she scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on a young woman talking to a small group of men, charming them with her smile. She was pretty, and the hair was exactly the same shade as Angelique’s, but it wasn’t her. Relief and pain washed through Chloé in equal measure.

She gathered her wits, and turned back into the crowd. Soon she spotted Papa again as he held court with several very important-looking men.

Approaching her father, she raised her hand in greeting to get his attention. He saw her but didn’t look pleased, and waved her off. She wasn’t sure what was the matter, but there was nothing to do about it now. He was either still mad at her for her coffee shop fiasco, or he was having a difficult time with one of his political contacts.

Shrugging it off since there wasn’t anything she could do about it right now, Chloé snatched a couple of glasses of champagne from a tray and went to find Marinette.

What she saw made her stomach clench. Pierre Martin, a businessman who sometimes came to the hotel to see her father, was talking to Marinette and leaning in far too close for Chloé’s liking. He had a deserved reputation for preferring much younger women, and Chloé had to be very blunt on two occasions when he couldn’t keep his hands to himself despite Chloé very clearly telling him his advances weren’t welcome.

She pushed through the crowd to get to them as fast as she could. It wasn’t fear that drove her forward. Marinette could take care of herself, and Pierre was a fool. It was anger… anger at herself for leaving Marinette alone… anger at herself for how careless she had been tonight… anger at herself how envious she was that Pierre had the liberty to openly pursue Marinette while Chloé felt gut-wrenching self-loathing for wanting to do the same… 

None of this was fair, especially to Marinette. She deserved better. She deserved Adrien, who was good and kind and could stand beside her openly in public, unlike Chloé. Yes, the world had moved on and was more accepting of people like her, but there were still stares and whispered comments and polite smiles hiding revulsion.

If people thought Chloé was a holy terror now, they had no idea what she was capable of if anyone thought they could subject Marinette to that kind of treatment. She would chart new territories in rage and hate if anyone tried to hurt Marinette like that.

Did that make Chloé a hypocrite? Yes. Yes, it did. It wasn’t as if she cared about being a hypocrite, though. She had been responsible for too much pain in Marinette’s life, and she knew she could never really make up for it. What she should have been doing for all these years was defending Marinette and guaranteeing her happiness. She couldn’t have Marinette’s love, but she could have been at her side instead of antagonizing her in a pitiful, doomed endeavor as a supposed rival.

If Marinette needed an attack dog, then Chloé Bourgeois was the woman for the job. Pierre was about to discover that firsthand.

Chloé made sure to show her best obviously false smile to Pierre as she smoothly slipped between him and Marinette, who looked ready to slap Pierre if Chloé hadn’t intervened.

“Hello, Pierre! I see you’ve met my friend,” Chloé said to him, voice dripping with contempt. 

He was unfazed, and his oily smile made Chloé want to toss her champagne in his face. “Yes,” he said. “And I believe I was about to get her name, too, Miss Bourgeois.”

“Marinette,” the brunette said. The annoyed distress in her voice made Chloé bristle.

“Charmed,” Pierre said, trying to lean around Chloé who promptly stepped in front of him again. “I’m hoping I can steal you away. I’m sure Miss Bourgeois is delightful company, but you’re the talk of the party, and I don’t think I’ll be satisfied until I’ve had my chance with you. To chat, that is.”

Chloé decided to end this before she or Marinette ended up murdering him. 

“Oh, Pierre,” she said, narrowing her eyes and unleashing her best smirk. “You’ll never guess who I ran into a moment ago!”

She paused, giving him a chance to turn his attention to her fully before continuing.

“I’m afraid I have no idea, Miss Bourgeois,” he said, impatient to get back to his disgusting pursuit of Marinette.

“Mr. Durand! It’s been ages since I’ve seen him!” She was lying, but her words had the desired effect. Pierre furtively glanced around. He had gotten into trouble pushing himself on Mr. Durand’s daughter at a party last year. “I asked him to stop by, so I can introduce Marinette to him! He shouldn’t be but a moment and then we can all chat like you suggested…”

Pierre was already backing away.

Chloé couldn’t help herself, and threw out one last barb. “I think Michelle is here, too!”

At that, Pierre didn’t bother trying to maintain any dignity, and he turned on his heel and walked away as fast as he could.

“Thank you, Chloé,” Marinette said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought I might have to punch him if he tried putting his arm around my shoulder again.”

Chloé fought to keep the snarl off her face. “Well, he’s gone now. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you.” She handed her one of the champagne flutes. “Take this. It’ll keep most of them at bay.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side in that cute way she did when she was puzzled, so Chloé explained further.

“Most of these jerks can’t think of anything more original than asking if they can get you a drink. If you have one already, they just look for an easier target.”

Marinette looked suspiciously around the room. Chloé hadn’t meant to frighten her.

“I’m sorry. I’m overreacting,” Chloé said. “It’s not really that bad, although there’s always one like Pierre.”

Marinette took a sip of her champagne. “Mm! This is good,” she said, smiling again. 

Chloé felt her entire body relax. Marinette didn’t blame her. Marinette didn’t hate her.

“Papa always has the best champagne,” Chloé said proudly while trying to regain a semblance of poise.

“So,” Marinette began. “Who is Mr. Durand? And should I be watching out for him, too?”

Chloé’s laugh was light and high. “No, Marinette, he’s a sweetheart, but Pierre tried his usual, disgusting act with Michelle, Mr. Durand’s daughter, so Mr. Durand’s holding quite the grudge.” She took a sip of her own drink. Marinette was right. It was good champagne. “Not that I blame him, of course.”

Marinette giggled. “I can imagine. And thank you again, although I could have saved myself.”

Chloé joined in the laughter. “I have no doubt.”

“But,” Marinette said with a smirk of her own. “I thought maybe getting you and me thrown out for assaulting another guest would be bad form.”

Chloé frowned and shrugged. “Papa should give you a medal if you teach Pierre a lesson.”

“Let’s not let him ruin our night, Chloé!” Marinette said, slipping her arm through Chloé’s.

She was right. Chloé wasn’t going to let someone like Pierre ruin this night—Chloé’s single perfect night she would treasure. It couldn’t last, but she could savor it while it lasted.

The rest of the evening went by in the blink of an eye. Marinette understood that Chloé’s father was too busy to be interviewed, and the girls relaxed and enjoyed themselves. 

The only hiccup was when Chloé’s father was giving the speech for the guest of honor. It was capped off by opening a fresh bottle of champagne to celebrate in dramatic fashion with the cork popping free and shooting into the air. Both a little giddy from the evening and the champagne, Marinette and Chloé remembered what Marinette had said earlier about Chloé’s dress and might have giggled a little too loudly. Chloé noticed a few of her father’s associates raising eyebrows or frowning disapprovingly, and felt a sinking sensation deep inside, but she told herself that it was no big deal. No one could seriously object to two perfectly normal teenaged girls having a little fun at a stuffy party.

When it was time to leave, Chloé asked if Marinette wanted to stay the night at her place since it was already so late. Marinette liked the idea of an impromptu sleepover and agreed. Chloé was glad the night wasn’t ending. She knew that when they went back to school, things would go back to how they had to be, but she wanted to hold onto this as long as possible. Still, she decided to play it safe and insist Marinette take the bed once it came time to sleep. Chloé was confident she would be fine on the sofa.

Marinette called her parents and once she had let them know her plans, she suggested they walk back to the hotel, since it was only a few blocks.

The night air was refreshing, and Chloé didn’t think she had laughed so much in her entire life.

Marinette stopped her with a hand on her arm as they approached the hotel. Chloé felt electricity where Marinette’s fingers lightly grasped.

“You, Miss Bourgeois, are in entirely too good a mood!” the brunette said, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes in an overly dramatic fashion. “You haven’t made a single person question their life choices tonight! Who are you? And what have you done with the real Chloé?”

She couldn’t hold the serious face, though, and broke down in giggles.

“Marinette, are you tipsy?” Chloé asked, giggling with her. “How many glasses of champagne have you had?”

Marinette shrugged. “I stopped counting at five, but the world is **definitely** spinning, isn’t it? How are you still fine? How many glasses did you have?”

“Personally, I never count after seven,” Chloé said smugly. She was proud of her tolerance, but she felt a bit bad that she had allowed Marinette to overindulge. “Come on, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to force you to drink at least a liter of water, or you’ll hate me in the morning.”

She took Marinette’s hand and pulled her towards the hotel. Marinette pulled back forcefully, and Chloé fell into her arms. She was a petite girl, but she was stronger than she appeared, which surprised Chloé. Surprise was definitely why being in Marinette’s arms had taken Chloé’s breath away. She felt quite paralyzed looking up at Marinette. Those heels had been a superb choice.

“I’ll never hate you again, Chloé,” Marinette said, looking deep into Chloé’s eyes, which would have been more impressive if Marinette’s pupils weren’t completely dilated. Chloé needed to get water into the girl or the hangover would be epic.

“Not anymore,” Marinette continued. “You’re my friend now.” She hugged the blonde nuzzling into her neck, and Chloé’s breath hitched.

“O-Okay, Marinette,” she said. “Time for water.”

This time, Marinette allowed herself to be led inside. They changed into pajamas (Chloé’s pajamas were ridiculously big on Marinette) and cleaned off their makeup (Chloé cleaned off her own as well as Marinette’s) and then Marinette drank her water under Chloé’s watchful eye as they gossiped.

Marinette was winding down quickly, and Chloé felt herself fading as well. 

She was surprised when her father’s voice called out from the hallway, “Chloé, I need to speak with you!”

“I’ll see what he wants, Marinette,” Chloé said and standing up.

Marinette nodded, smiling sleepily.

“Coming, Papa!” she called as she went to the door.

Chloé stepped out, but left the door open. She wanted to let Papa know that Marinette was there, and see if she could introduce her so that her friend could interview him in the morning. 

She didn’t get the chance.

Mayor Bourgeois’ expression was severe as he spoke. “What were you thinking tonight?” he asked, and his words had a clipped quality that signaled to Chloé that he was mad. He always sounded that way when he was upset.

“I don’t underst—” Chloé started to say before he cut her off.

“Chloé, I’ve told you that what you do privately is something I won’t interfere with, but you can’t bring one of your… special friends,” he said, uttering the last words with disdain. “To an important event like tonight’s party. I had friends and donors there. The Archbishop was there, Chloé, and you know how he feels about these things.”

Oh, no. Papa thought Marinette was her date. Chloé couldn’t be so lucky, but that didn’t matter at the moment. She had to correct him quickly. With the door open, Marinette must be able to hear everything.

She started to protest, but Papa held his hand up stopping her.

“No,” he said with finality. “Not a word. Just because I finally put my foot down over your shenanigans at school, you act out like this? If you can’t use discretion, young lady, and insist on defying me, you’ll find yourself packed off to boarding school, do you understand me?”

Chloé nodded. He wasn’t going to listen. Anything she tried to say right now would only make things worse. She could only hope he didn’t say anything she couldn’t explain away.

“You must keep your affairs private, Chloé,” he sighed. “Is she serious, or is this only a fling?”

Chloé was frozen in place both in despair that there was no way she could now lie her way out of this with Marinette and appalled Papa might think a girl as special as Marinette could ever be something as tawdry as a fling.

“No, never mind. I don’t want to know,” he continued. He sounded very tired, his burst of anger now spent. “It’s your business, but please be careful. You can never tell. She might only be after your money, or to gain some political advantage.”

He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “You’re young and inexperienced. Women who find out you’re…” he drifted off unable to say the word out loud. “Well, they might try and take advantage of you.”

He turned and walked towards the elevator, but paused, turning to face her again. He looked so sad. “I love you, Chloé. You know that, right?”

She nodded again, but said nothing.

Her papa’s face fell, and he looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how. The elevator opened and he got in without another word.

Chloé felt rooted to the floor, and she wasn’t sure how long she stood there until she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

Chloé flinched as if she had been struck, and Marinette pulled back. Chloé turned to see Marinette looking at her with pity. Chloé feared that pity would turn to contempt once Marinette understood the implications of what she heard.

“Now you know the truth about me,” Chloé said. Her voice sounded cold and distant, but composed. Good. She had nothing left except some scraps of pride. She wouldn’t give them up cheaply. 

Nothing could be the same ever again. Marinette knew her secret.

Marinette ignored her words and her tone, and embraced Chloé. She whispered words into Chloé’s ear that the blonde couldn’t hear over the rushing of blood in her ears. Chloé was sure it was meant to be consoling. That was the kind of person Marinette was.

Then, as if in slow motion, Marinette was leading Chloé back to the bedroom.

It didn’t matter. This could never be fixed. Chloé’s life might as well be over. Everything she had said and done to protect her mother’s reputation was unraveled in one single evening. All of her routines and practiced sneers and sharpened insults and stupid schemes amounted to nothing in the end.

Because now Marinette knew part of the truth, and Chloé was certain it was only a matter of time before she figured out that Chloé had been hiding feelings for her for a very long time. She had no hope that Marinette would react to that with anything except the disgust Chloé deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… that angst tag, am I right? Hopefully, I managed to balance the happy, fluffy part with the angsty part.
> 
> For anyone interested, here is an approximation of Chloé’s hairstyle for the party:
> 
> http://imgur.com/XMWhY30
> 
> and Marinette's:
> 
> http://imgur.com/Pne8GrW
> 
> I am interested in the reaction to Mayor Bourgeois. I don't want him to be cartoonishly evil or anything like that. Hopefully, I avoided that pitfall.
> 
> I think everything is set for Ch. 5 to post Monday although I might have to travel for a funeral. I’ve lost a dear friend. I don’t like shirking personal obligations, though, so I will do everything I can to post the chapter on schedule.
> 
> On that note, I’m a little worried that I've made typos in this chapter or put something in post-beta that’s illogical. Let me know and I’ll do my best to make corrections.
> 
> Next up in Chapter 5, we get the aftermath of what just happened. Not gonna lie. There will be angst, but there will also be comfort.


	5. The Noblest Form of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is that deep spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It is beautiful, it is fine, it is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it. 
> 
> \- _Oscar Wilde, during his trial on charges of "gross indecency with men"_ (1895)
> 
> Song Choice: “Be OK” by Ingrid Michaelson

By the time Marinette understood exactly how private the conversation she was overhearing was, it was too late for her to shut the door, or go to another part of Chloé’s suite where she might avoid eavesdropping. 

Marinette felt sick to her stomach listening to the mayor scold Chloé. There had been times in Marinette’s life where she envied the time-jumping abilities her friend Alix had when she was akumatized into Timebreaker. Needless to say, this was one of those times.

No one, no matter what they had done, deserved to be talked to by their father this way.

Mayor Bourgeois’ voice sounded further away and Marinette assumed he was leaving. Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard the elevator chime. There was silence from the hallway and she was certain he was gone.

There was nothing to do except wait for Chloé to return.

Marinette waited, but after several minutes, Chloé still hadn’t come back.

Marinette expected the blonde to storm into the room shouting about the indignity of her father’s false accusation. Except… except his words rang true to Marinette. At least, parts of what he said rang true. And if Chloé was interested in women, it would explain certain things, but it made some things even more confusing.

When it became clear that Chloé wasn’t coming back, in a fury or otherwise, Marinette worried she might be sitting outside devastated. Images of the girl broken down in tears collapsed in the hallway flashed through her mind, and the thought of it made her feel more distress than she would have thought possible as recently as this morning.

She rose and quietly moved to the door, standing in the shadows of the room and looking out into the brightly lit hallway. 

Chloé stood facing away from Marinette. She wasn’t broken down crying. If anything, she stood so still Marinette worried she might be catatonic.

Marinette approached cautiously, but cleared her throat to avoid surprising the other girl. Chloé didn’t react at all. Marinette stopped beside Chloé and put her hand on her shoulder, hoping to offer some sort of small comfort and the taller girl recoiled from her touch.

It was like Chloé hadn’t been aware she was there at all. Chloé turned to face Marinette. Her eyes were glassy from unshed tears, and Marinette could see her struggling to maintain her composure.

“Now you know the truth about me,” Chloé said, her voice empty and hollow and ragged. She sounded as if her father in one angry moment had stripped every defense away from her.

The blonde was in such obvious pain that Marinette didn’t even pause to think before embracing Chloé.

“It’s all right,” she whispered into her ear. “I’m here for you, and it’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t think Chloé heard her. She seemed lost inside her own thoughts.

Marinette stepped back to try and get Chloé’s attention again and noticed Chloé was swaying slightly, as if unsteady on her feet. Marinette took her hand and led her to the bedroom. Chloé didn’t resist.

Marinette and Chloé sat in silence on the edge of the bed for a few awkward minutes. Marinette looked around the room hoping for some sort of inspiration.

Tikki would know what to do, but she had been safely hiding in Marinette’s bag since she had helped Marinette zip up her dress. Another wave of nausea hit Marinette when she considered that Tikki must have overheard, too. The kwami was entirely trustworthy, but Marinette didn’t like that Chloé’s private business was being aired in front of anyone else.

She turned and looked at Chloé, thinking she could perhaps try again to say something that might make her feel better. The blonde stared into the distance, not acknowledging Marinette or anything else.

Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip, and was startled by Chloé speaking.

“Don’t do that, Marinette,” Chloé said, voice barely above a whisper. “You’ll chap your lips.”

Marinette almost laughed. Leave it to Chloé to worry about something like that. And that’s when inspiration hit her. When they were getting ready for the party, Chloé had combed and braided her hair. 

She stood and walked towards Chloé’s vanity while speaking, “Chloé, when I was small my maman would brush my hair. It always made me feel calmer. Would you mind if I did that? Brushed your hair?”

Marinette paused at the vanity looking back at Chloé, her hand reaching out but not grasping the brush that sat beside the photograph of Chloé’s mother.

Chloé shrugged.

Okay, it wasn’t the most enthusiastic response, but it would do. Marinette picked up the brush and returned to the bed. 

“It might help you feel better,” she said as she positioned herself behind Chloé, sitting cross-legged.

“Nothing can help, Marinette,” Chloé said softly.

“Is it okay if I try?” Marinette asked.

Chloé nodded in response, so Marinette began brushing.

“Earlier… when you were fixing my hair…” Marinette said as she rhythmically brushed Chloé’s hair. “I was so stressed over the party… Would I say the wrong thing? Would I make a fool of myself? And you were so gentle fixing my hair that all my worries just disappeared. I want to thank you for that. I wouldn’t have made it through the night without you.”

Chloé didn’t respond, so Marinette continued.

“Is there anything you want to talk about? It… doesn’t have to be about tonight,” she offered. Maybe getting Chloé to take her mind off tonight would help.

“I don’t even know where to start, Marinette,” Chloé said, almost too quiet for Marinette to hear.

“Anywhere you like, Chloé,” Marinette answered.

“I…” Chloé started and then paused, taking a deep breath. Marinette didn’t try to rush her. “I’ll explain to Papa tomorrow. I would never… No one should think that about you… that you’re some sort of fling.” She stopped and a small sob escaped her. 

Marinette paused in her brushing. “If this is too hard, Chloé—”

“No,” Chloé insisted. “I can’t allow him to think **that** about you. Not that.”

“Chloé, I don’t really care what he thinks about me.”

Chloé turned to face her. “ **I** care what he thinks about you, Marinette.” 

There was an unspoken plea for understanding in Chloé’s eyes. She needed this. 

Marinette nodded. “Okay, Chloé.”

Chloé repositioned herself so Marinette could resume her brushing, which she did, glad this might be helping on some level.

“I also want you to know, Marinette, that I would **never** … I would never try to trick you into a date and take advantage of you,” Chloé finished, her voice trembling.

Marinette’s breath caught. It hadn’t even occurred to her to see it that way. “Chloé, you’ve done some terrible things to me,” she began, her voice also trembling which surprised her. Chloé’s shoulders drooped, so Marinette hurried to reassure her. “But that’s in the past. And I know you would never do **that**.”

“I kissed you, Marinette.”

“On the cheek. I’ve kissed Alya on the cheek. We’re French. We kiss people on the cheeks. And I know you were excited.” She hoped a bit of light humor would ease the tension, but by the look on Chloé’s face, she still had work to do.

“I was,” Chloé answered. “I got carried away and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“It’s okay, Chloé. The party was wonderful.” She meant that. If that **was** a date—and Marinette felt a strange flutter in her stomach realizing that in a way, it had been, even if Chloé hadn’t meant it to be—then it was a fun one. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Chloé said. “I wish it hadn’t ended like this.”

Marinette couldn’t help but ask a question. She realized that she probably should just leave it alone and let Chloé talk about what she needed to talk about to feel better, but Marinette’s curiosity compelled her.

“Chloé, do you…” she said trying to figure out exactly how to ask this. “Do you… like Adrien? At all? Like in a romantic way?” 

Chloé didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, feeling her face heating up as she continued to brush. “It’s none of my business and… and… and I’m sorry.”

Chloé shifted again to face her, and said, “Marinette, would it be okay if we lay down? I’m exhausted.”

Marinette sat the brush on the nightstand beside the bed. The two girls arranged the pillows and lay facing each other, roughly half a meter of space between them. Chloé’s eyes still had that glassy quality from the tears she was holding back, but her face was softer, less closed off. A tightness in Marinette’s chest she hadn’t realized was there loosened, and she felt relieved she had been some help.

When they were situated, Chloé spoke again. “I only like girls that way.” 

Marinette nodded. Chloé looked so hesitant and afraid that Marinette was afraid to say anything.

“Adrien is… Adrien…” Chloé continued. “He’s safe.”

Marinette was confused, and when Chloé didn’t offer more, pressed her to continue as gently as she could. “Safe how?” she asked.

“He doesn’t like me that way, so he’s safe. He wouldn’t ever try anything with me. He’s too gentle and too kind. Too much of a gentleman. None of the other boys are safe that way.”

“Is there someone you do like?” Marinette blurted out before she could stop herself. That fluttery feeling intensified. She found herself wondering if Chloé had feelings for her, which of course was just her being vain because she wasn’t even sure if Chloe **liked** her socially let alone romantically, and even if she did it didn’t matter because Marinette loved Adrien… although she was suddenly not sure how she would feel if Chloé did like her, and her stomach was leaping around inside her body and that made no sense because… **hello** she was in love with Adrien and now she was rambling inside her own head, and how nuts was that?

Chloé’s words stopped her thoughts cold.

“Yes, Marinette, there’s someone I like, but it’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” There was a stillness in the atmosphere as if the entire world had stopped until Marinette had the answer.

“I couldn’t ever ask her to date me in secret. And besides, she doesn’t like me,” Chloé answered.

“How do you know?” Marinette asked in response. 

What was wrong with her? Why could she not stop asking questions? It seemed like maybe probably oh god Chloé was talking about her and that wasn’t what Marinette wanted because she was in love with Adrien. Very in love with Adrien. Super in love with Adrien. But the idea of Chloé being interested in her made her suddenly feel excited in the same way she felt when Alya would drag her onto a roller coaster and it was poised at the crest about to plummet along the track at nauseating speed. And it was stupid because just this morning she had hated… well, not hated but strongly disliked Chloé more than anyone she had ever met—

“She never smiles when she sees me,” Chloé said, once again stopping Marinette’s runaway, panicked thoughts.

That was… not what Marinette expected. Okay. She had smiled at Chloé, so Chloé’s crush had to be someone else. Admittedly, most of the smiles in question had been directed at the blonde today, but it still counted, right?

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said. The idea that there was a girl out there that Chloé liked and admired who thought so little of Chloé that she never smiled at her… It was heartbreaking.

“Why are you sorry?” Chloé asked.

“That must hurt a lot.”

Chloé shifted and sighed. “It does, but it’s okay really.”

“It is?” Marinette asked, confused. Why would it be okay to hurt a lot?

“Mm-hmm,” Chloé said. “I only cause her trouble.”

Oh no. Chloé was about to reveal she did have feelings for her and wasn’t counting all the smiling Marinette had done tonight to the point her face sort of ached. Marinette couldn’t think of anyone that Chloé caused more trouble for.

“Do I know her?” Marinette asked, simultaneously afraid of and hungry for the answer, and she didn’t even know how to begin sorting that out.

“It’s Ladybug,” Chloé answered.

Marinette’s eyes went wide and her mouth went dry. 

“Ladybug?” she whispered, suppressing an urge to giggle hysterically. That was not what she expected, and for obvious reasons it did not lessen the butterflies in her stomach. In fact, they intensified. She had thought the worst thing might be that Chloé would confess feelings for her and she would have to let her down gently on the night the girl’s father accidentally outed her to her crush because she couldn’t return those feelings—not when she was in love with someone else. But no, this was much worse. Now she had to live with Chloé having a crush on her secret identity, meaning she had to lie to Chloé and oh god she felt sick to her stomach and like she was betraying the girl who was opening up to her as if Marinette was her only lifeline.

“I know it’s silly, Marinette,” Chloé said wistfully, again thankfully interrupting Marinette’s thoughts. “She’s… beautiful and strong and heroic and… everything I’ll never be.”

As Chloé praised her alter ego, Marinette felt a warmth spread from her stomach. She feared she was blushing again.

Chloé didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe she’s safe like Adrien is. She’s a famous masked hero and I’m just someone…” Chloé paused and sighed. “I’m weak. I should just play it cool, but when I see her, I always try to get her to take a selfie with me or talk to me. 

“It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic,” the blonde finished with a frown.

“I…” Marinette said, her mouth feeling so parched it was like it had never even been introduced to the concept of water let alone actual water. “I don’t think it’s pathetic.”

“No?” Chloé asked, raising her brow in disbelief.

“No, I mean when I see Adrien, I always want to go up to speak to him and just… be near him I suppose. I can’t actually do it because I get so embarrassed, so in a way you’re braver than I am.” 

Chloé considered that and nodded. “Maybe. She could do so much better than me, though.”

“I don’t think she could ever do better than you,” Marinette answered and immediately tried to figure out what she was even saying.

“Marinette, it’s nice that you feel sorry for me, but both of us know what I’m like.”

“You push people away because you’re afraid,” Marinette countered. Chloé began to respond, but Marinette pushed on, refusing to let Chloé put herself down again. “I think I’m right about this. You’re scared. I know you have your reasons, but you **are** afraid. And it’s okay, Chloé. It’s not too late to show the world who you really are.”

Chloé frowned as she listened to Marinette’s words, and Marinette could see her thinking them over for a moment before lowering her eyes toward the sheets sadly. “I don’t know who I am, Marinette.”

“I think you’re kinder and stronger than you want anyone to know.”

“Kind? Strong?” Chloé blushed. “I’m neither of those things.”

“Yes, kind. You’ve been nothing but generous with me today, and I don’t think for a moment it’s because you have some dark motive or plan. Don’t forget that I’ve been on the receiving end of your schemes for years. I can tell when you’re up to something.”

The blonde’s lips turned up, almost smiling.

“And as for strong, you just declared—very fiercely I might add—that you’re going to take your father on for my honor and reputation.”

“There are a lot of things I’m capable of, Marinette, but questioning you like that is too far. Letting him think that about you is too much even for me.” 

Marinette considered that for a moment before saying, “If you decide to come out, Chloé, I’ll be there for you.” If Chloé had her back, she would have Chloé’s.

“I can’t ever do that, Marinette.”

“Are you afraid of what people will say?” Marinette asked, stuck on the word “can’t.” It wasn’t as if France was overtly homophobic. Sure, there were some people who were bigots just like everywhere else, but who cared about them?

Chloé looked like she was about to withdraw again, so Marinette hurriedly spoke again.

“I mean maybe someone would say something, but you’re Chloé Bourgeois,” Marinette continued, leaving off the part where she was quite confident Chloé would destroy anyone that tried to harass her for her liking girls. “I’m not sure anyone can stop you if you put your mind to it.”

Chloé gave her a small, sad smile.

“And I will be by your side if you want me there,” Marinette added.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chloé responded. “I made a promise a long time ago I would keep this a secret, but I know you would stand up for me. That… means a lot.”

Marinette wanted to ask who she made that promise to, but decided if Chloé wanted her to know, she would tell her.

“Marinette,” Chloé continued. “I’m sorry for everything. I mean it. I’ve been so stupid for so long. I feel so ashamed. All the things I’ve done to you over the years… I know you can never forgive me but—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette interjected, surprising herself. It really was okay. If the conversation Chloé had with her father was any indication, Chloé’s situation was far more complicated than Marinette had ever expected. Yes, Chloé had been horrible to her for years, but the overwhelming self-loathing that Chloé obviously felt… There wasn’t any amount of punishment that Marinette could dish out that would compare to what went on inside Chloé’s head. 

Obviously, a lot of that had to have come from her father. Thinking of Mayor Bourgeois, anger bubbled inside Marinette. “What your father said tonight—”

“He loves me, Marinette,” Chloé interrupted, finally resembling the strong, confident Chloé that Marinette was familiar with. “I know he does. He doesn’t understand, and he’s under a lot of pressure as mayor. He doesn’t need me being an embarrassment more than I already am.”

Marinette couldn’t let that go. “He’s wrong, Chloé. You’re not an embarrassment and you shouldn’t be ashamed.”

“But I am. I’m always ashamed. I know the way I treat people is horrible, but I feel trapped. I don’t know how to keep them all away—”

Marinette reached out to touch Chloé’s hand, which had began that rhythmic tapping that Marinette suspected Chloé unconsciously did when she was nervous. Chloé didn’t pull away. That made Marinette happy.

“You never have to feel ashamed with me,” she said trying to cram as much reassurance as possible into her words. “I’m not sure what to say about how you treat people because honestly it’s not really good.”

Chloé nodded. “Maybe… Maybe you can help me figure out how to at least not turn people into monsters?”

She looked so hopeful and as if everything depended on Marinette’s answer.

“Of course,” Marinette responded with a small laugh. A surge of pride ran through her that maybe something good for Chloé could come out of this. “We’ll figure something out.”

Chloé smiled for a second, but it quickly faltered. “I hate asking this, but will you keep my secret?”

Marinette returned the smile. “I won’t ever tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

Chloé breathed out a sigh of relief. “I don’t know if this means anything, but you’re the only person I can trust with this.”

It did mean a lot to Marinette. She felt special that Chloé trusted her with something so important even if she couldn’t figure out why… and then a thought struck her. 

“No one but your father knows?” Marinette asked. “Not even Sabrina?”

“No one else,” Chloé answered. “Sabrina would drop hints to people until they figured it out. She can’t handle keeping secrets that big. Small stuff? Sure. But if it’s something major, she needs people to know she was important enough to trust with a secret.”

“Okay,” Marinette wasn’t sure if she agreed with Chloé’s assessment of Sabrina, but this was a time to make Chloé feel safe, so Marinette answered firmly. “I’ll keep your secret on one condition.”

Chloé’s face took on a wary expression, but she remained silent. 

“Will you be my friend?” Marinette asked and continued before Chloé could respond. “Okay, even if you say ‘no’ I’ll keep your secret, but I’d like to be your friend.”

Chloé let out a short half-laugh, half-sob. “Yes, Marinette, if you want someone like me to be your friend.”

“Good.” Marinette felt calmer, and Chloé looked as if she did, too.

“We should get some sleep,” Chloé offered. “It’s after one in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

Chloé rolled over, stood up, and began to walk to the other side of the room.

“Where are you going?” Marinette asked, confused.

Chloé turned with a puzzled expression. “I’m going to sleep on the sofa,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“If I offer to sleep on the sofa, we’re going to have a fight about it, aren’t we?” 

“Yes,” Chloé supplied. Her tone backed that up. “You’ve done too much for me tonight to sleep on a sofa.”

Marinette sighed. “On the one hand, I’m glad to have my take-no-prisoners Chloé back,” she said and then her eyes went wide realizing what she had said. “I mean… the Chloé I know!”

Chloé laughed, but she was blushing, which made Marinette feel a tiny bit smug knowing she had that effect, which in turn made her feel a tiny bit guilty. 

“It’s okay, Marinette. It’s… fine. You’ve had a lot to dropped on you tonight.”

“Don’t, Chloé. You’re the one that… well…” Marinette said. “How about a compromise?”

“What do you have in mind?” Chloé asked. She sounded uncertain.

“Let’s skip the fight and share the bed,” Marinette said, trying very hard to make it sound simple and harmless.

Chloé was unconvinced. “Are you sure you would be comfortable? Now that you know? About me?”

“That you aren’t the most horrible, self-absorbed brat that ever lived? Yes, I’m sure.” Marinette said, smiling slyly.

That didn’t have the effect she had hoped for. Chloé still looked nervous.

“You’re funny,” Chloé said, looking down at her feet.

“Chloé, look at me.”

Chloé looked up, and to Marinette’s surprise she looked closer to crying than when she had been scolded by her father.

“I trust you,” Marinette said. Chloé’s doubt was starting to actually annoy her a little. “I mean it, Chloé. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t trust you.”

Chloé nodded, and she came back to the bed and lay down again. 

“I just don’t want to, you know,” the blonde said, timidly. “Reach out in my sleep or something and make you feel… I’m not even sure how to say it.”

“Chloé,” Marinette said patiently. “Alya is the straightest girl I know. She has like zero interest in girls, okay?”

“I have no idea what your point is, Marinette,” Chloé said. 

“We’ve had plenty of sleepovers,” Marinette continued as if Chloé hadn’t spoken. “My bed isn’t that big, and a couple of times while she’s been sleeping, she’s had dreams and has… cuddled.”

Chloé’s eyes went wide as she understood the implications. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said laughing nervously, trying to push the memory of Alya grinding against her out of her mind. 

“Don’t worry. I woke her up,” she said taking a deep breath. “And it was fine. So if you’re dreaming and… you know… I’ll wake you up, okay?”

Chloé laughed nervously. “Alright. I think.”

The two settled into Chloé’s bed. Marinette thought about making a joke about the size of the bed. It was enormous. She didn’t think Chloé had much to worry about. If Marinette needed space, she had hectares.

Chloé switched off the lamp, and the two lay in silence for a couple of minutes when Chloé spoke up.

“Marinette?” she asked.

“Hm?” Marinette replied sleepily.

“Would it be weird if I asked to hold your hand? I’m… afraid.”

Marinette reached out and slipped her hand inside Chloé’s. “Why are you afraid?” she asked.

“Because I don’t know where to go from here.”

Marinette considered that for a moment before answering. “We’ll go together, so you’ll be fine.”

“Marinette?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” Chloé said, solemnly.

Marinette’s breath caught. That was the first time Chloé had said those words to her. She felt herself tearing up. 

“You’re welcome,” Marinette whispered.

Chloé squeezed her hand in response, and soon the two were soundly sleeping.

Moments later, an awful buzzing sound woke Marinette.

She blinked in confusion, sat up, and said, “Whu?” 

“Sorry,” Chloé said. “It’s my alarm clock.” 

Marinette heard Chloé fumble around and then a dim light sprang into life. Chloé had turned on her lamp. The blonde turned off the alarm.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Chloé continued. “You can go back to sleep.”

“S’okay,” Marinette mumbled as she turned, setting her feet on the floor. She needed to go to the restroom. Marinette heard Chloé’s breath hitch and turned her head to see what was the matter.

Chloé was trying very hard not to look at her. Marinette felt like she was trying to think through a cloud in her head. 

“Something wrong, Chloé?” she asked.

“Um… shirt,” Chloé mumbled.

Marinette looked down. Her shirt had come down around her arm leaving Chloé with a good view of most of her back.

“Oh, sorry,” she said as she pulled her shirt back up. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you.” 

She heard Chloé whisper it was okay, but most of her focus was on making it to the bathroom without stumbling.

When she came back out, Chloé wasn’t in bed. She was sitting at her vanity.

“Everything okay, Chloé?” she asked.

Chloé nodded, seeming nervous. “I always start my day at five. It’s nice to have a few minutes to compose myself before I go out.”

“Are we going somewhere this early?” Marinette asked, confused.

Chloé visibly composed herself and turned to smile. “No, you can go back to sleep if you like. I have a dressing screen I can set up to block the light for you.

Marinette shook her head. She was up now and didn’t want to go back to bed alone… and that nugget of information was something she should think about later she decided. But she couldn’t lie. It had been nice sleeping beside someone else.

Again, that was for later when she had a clearer head.

“So,” Marinette asked in a cheerful tone. “What does Chloé Bourgeois do to prepare for the day?”

Chloé briefly explained her 10-step facial care routine, which she followed with putting on her makeup.

“...And you do that every day?” Marinette asked, incredulous.

Chloé nodded, her mouth drawn into a smirk. “This kind of fabulousness doesn’t come easy or cheap.”

Marinette nodded. “Reasonable,” she admitted.

Chloé looked back and forth between the vanity and Marinette. “Would you like me to show you?”

The hope was clear in her voice, so Marinette didn’t hesitate. 

“Sure,” she said and pulled a chair from across the room over to the vanity. She wasn’t **actually** sure about this, but letting Chloé help her get ready for the party last night had definitely made Chloé happy.

“First, I need to make a confession,” Chloé said sheepishly.

“Alright,” Marinette said slowly.

“For a long time,” Chloé began nervously tapping her fingers on the wood surface of the vanity. Marinette noticed Chloé’s other hand gripping the bottom of her pajama blouse. “I thought everything would be so much easier if you would just hate me.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. She definitely hadn’t been very fond of Chloé over the years to say the least.

Chloé saw her sarcastic expression and returned it. “I mean **really** hate me, Marinette. You fought back, sure, and you gave as good as you got or even sometimes maybe better which is hard for me to admit…”

Chloé took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m off track. The point is you’ve always played fair. You never lowered yourself to my level so to speak.” Chloé’s smirk had turned into a sheepish ghost of a smile.

Marinette had actually played dirty a time or two, but Chloé wouldn’t know that, and Marinette didn’t think this was the right time to bring it up.

“Well,” Marinette said. “How about we both just admit we’ve fought but we’re moving on?”

“I want that,” Chloé said with conviction. “But I need to say this.”

Marinette moved her hand to hold Chloé’s hand, stopping the rhythmic tapping on the table. 

Just like last night, the blonde didn’t pull away. Chloé nodded as if Marinette taking her hand was the permission she needed. 

“I always wanted you to hate me because it would be easier,” she stated. “Simpler. And I wanted that so badly. But you know that old saying? Sometimes you get what you want, and then you find you don’t really want it.

“Yesterday morning, when you told me how you really feel about me… how much you despise me… I guess that saying is more true than I wanted to admit. I don’t want you to feel that way about me. I know we talked about this last night, and you said you want to be friends, but it was a really emotional moment, and you might have felt pressured to make me feel better…” Chloé closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not opening her eyes when she spoke again.

“The point is that I want to make it up to you, but I know it’s probably too late. Do I have a chance to start over? To be someone you might like as a friend?”

Chloé finished, and opened her eyes again, looking into Marinette’s eyes, hopefully.

“I don’t despise you, Chloé. I’m glad we’re getting another chance.”

“Then it’s not too late? After everything?”

Marinette shook her head. “No, it’s not, but it will be too late for you to show me all this,” she said waving at the vast array of bottles and brushes and tubes and assorted items on the vanity. “If you don’t start soon.” 

The blonde nodded and picked up a cotton pad saying, “Okay, first we start with the foaming cleanser…”

Once she began, there was a solemnity to Chloé’s words and movements that impressed Marinette. She was well aware of how seriously Chloé took these things after she had witnessed her new friend’s skill the day before with makeup and hair, so it was no surprise to her that she took this seriously.

What did surprise Marinette was the patience Chloé displayed.

“It’s important that we’re gentle when wiping anything off,” Chloé said.

Marinette nodded, not daring to speak. She didn’t want to break the mood.

Once they both finished wiping off the cleanser, Chloé spoke again. “Now, we take thirty seconds to reflect before the next step. I like to say something small to focus.”

“Oh?” Marinette asked.

Chloé nodded, staring at her reflection in the mirror, and said, “I promise I will be strong.”

She turned to Marinette and said, “Your turn.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how to start, but she didn’t want to just copy Chloé. That might seem disrespectful. Finally, she settled on what she would say.

“I promise I will protect my friends,” she said.

Chloé smiled and moved to the next step.

“Now we exfoliate,” she said, taking a tube in hand. There was a slight chemical smell to the substance she squeezed onto Marinette’s finger. “It’s going to sting a little. Are you okay with that?”

Marinette nodded and copied how Chloé applied the liquid. It did sting, but it wasn’t too bad.

Chloé said, “I promise to do better today than I did yesterday.”

Marinette liked that and smiled. “Is it okay if I promise the same thing?”

Chloé returned the smile. “I think that’s great.”

Marinette faced the mirror and made the same promise.

“Now,” Chloé said. “We use toner.” She tapped a liquid onto a cotton ball for herself and for Marinette. “I promise I will protect my family.”

“I promise,” Marinette said. “That I will protect my family.” She turned to Chloé. “Sorry for copying.”

“It’s fine,” Chloé answered. “It’s not like I gave you time to come up with a list. You’re the best person I know, Marinette. If you think my promises are good enough to be yours, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Marinette lost herself in the steps after that. She followed Chloé’s lead with how to apply the various products. She made some promises of her own and mimicked Chloé’s when she didn’t think of one herself.

Finally, they ended the session with sunscreen, which surprised Marinette, but Chloé explained as they applied it that the sun was great for plants but not so great for a person’s face. Marinette already knew this because her mother frequently lectured her on the perils of unprotected skin and the sun, but she found she was enjoying Chloé’s explanation, so she didn’t interrupt.

Instead of another promise in the mirror after the last step, Chloé turned to the portrait of her mother.

“Maman,” she said, and Marinette could hear the heightened emotion in her voice. “I promise you that I will not disappoint you again. I will always remember you and honor you. I will keep my secret for you.”

The blonde then kissed her fingers and pressed them to the portrait.

Oh. Marinette had a dreadful feeling she knew why Chloé wouldn’t consider coming out to live a life that would make her happy. She couldn’t ruin this moment, though. She would work on that later.

“I promise,” she said quietly. “I will always protect your secret for as long as you want, Chloé.”

Chloé sniffed. “Don’t make me cry, Marinette. It’ll ruin all the work we just did.”

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes and stood. “Fine. Let’s get some breakfast.”

They changed into their clothes quickly and ordered room service. Marinette still felt weird about that, but Chloé explained that living in a hotel meant you didn’t have your own kitchen so there was little choice.

Soon, it was time to go. Marinette and Chloé agreed to talk to their teacher first thing on Monday to see if they could come up with an alternative assignment, since Chloé’s father had left the country without Marinette interviewing him.

She also declined the offer of Chloé’s limo service. It was a beautiful day and she wanted to enjoy the fresh air. She walked home, carrying the garment bag containing her dress, with a spring in her step.

When she arrived home, her maman greeted her as always. Papa was busy in the kitchen, but he shouted a hello.

“Hi, Maman!” Marinette said cheerfully as she came through the door. “How are you?”

Her mother smiled at her. “We’re fine, and it looks like you had a better time than you thought. Your papa said you’ve been asked to help a girl at school. Is that right? He sounded confused when he told me.”

Marinette smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s good to get to know a person better and… yeah.” She wasn’t sure what else she could say. “I’m going up to my room to call Alya!”

Her mother had been present many times while Alya and Marinette had complained about Chloé through the years, and Marinette wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of exactly who she was now partnered with and why she was so happy about the situation.

“Hold on!” her mother said. “You have a package.”

Marinette was puzzled. She hadn’t ordered anything. She took the package from her mother. “Okay, I’ll open it upstairs.”

When she got to her bedroom, she opened the box and found it contained brand new bottles and tubes of all the facial care products she had used this morning along with a note from Chloé telling Marinette how grateful she was to be her friend. Marinette smiled and arranged the skin care products on her sink. She put the letter in her desk without even realizing she was putting it in the same drawer that held all the small keepsakes that reminded her of Adrien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to begin by thanking everyone for the very kind words, both in regards to the story and a challenge I'm facing in my non-writing life. It means so much to me that people are enjoying my story, and I promise once I hit post on this (always a terrifying moment,) I will respond to the comments from previous chapters. 
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters. I think that may sound a little weird, since an author should love all their works, but sometimes you find one that's important to you for one reason or another. I hope I've achieved a sensitivity and specific delicacy in this chapter with Marinette's thoughts and feelings. She is the co-hero of this story after all.
> 
> My beta reader told me that of course it's one of my favorite chapters because if there's a trope for which I'm always a sucker, it's Ye Olde Bed-Sharing Trope. I hope I did it justice.
> 
> Chapter 6 (after a major rewrite because I hated the initial result) has been vetted and is ready to go on Friday.


	6. The Highest Tribute We Can Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're paying the highest tribute we can pay a man. We trust him to do right. It's that simple.
> 
> \- _Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird_ (1960)
> 
> Song Choice: “Take Care” by Drake feat. Rihanna

It had taken two weeks of partnership with Chloé, but what Marinette had feared in the beginning was finally happening. She was slowly losing her mind. Okay, maybe not slowly. But she definitely was going crazy.

Marinette would be the first to admit she wore her heart on her sleeve and that sometimes she struggled to contain all the emotions that bounced around inside her head. She wished she could do what Chloé did and simply will herself to at least appear calm, instead of fidgeting in her seat as she was doing now. In desperation, she had resorted to flipping through random articles on her tablet as she waited for class to begin as a way to take her mind off the fact that she was certain Chloé knew she was Ladybug.

It didn’t work.

Things were just getting way too tense, and Marinette was pretty sure her patience couldn’t hold out for long. If only Tikki would stop being stubborn and give her blessing to talk to Chloé about what she did or didn’t—but it really seemed like she did—know! Then Marinette could stop sitting around acting like everything was normal while she wondered why her new friend didn’t just talk to her about any suspicions she had.

But no, Tikki was adamant that Marinette not reveal her secret to anyone. Even though Tikki had admitted that she felt for Chloé after what she heard the night of the party, she took her Miraculous duties seriously, and the rules said that Ladybug’s identity must remain a secret.

In theory, Marinette understood and respected those rules. But Chloé knew already. Marinette was sure. And Chloé was protecting Marinette’s identity, and acting as if she didn’t suspect a thing about Ladybug, but…

No, she was going in circles, and it was going to drive her crazy. She needed to take her mind off Chloé, and trying to focus on random blog posts was clearly not working. 

Marinette sighed and switched off her tablet. She pulled out her sketchbook and began doodling dress designs to distract herself instead. Maybe that would work.

Again, no such luck. A single-word refrain kept running through her mind:

Chloé, Chloé, Chloé…

Marinette realized she was idly drawing a very detailed picture of Chloé modeling a top and shorts that Marinette had been trying to finalize for days. It was only natural, really. Chloé had a lovely face and a figure that would be absolutely perfect for the outfit. The blonde’s curves would highlight the waistline and…

Marinette shut her sketchbook and put it away, blushing slightly. Well, Chloé **would** make an excellent model for Marinette’s recent designs. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. She was being silly.

Chloé would probably tease her for days if she knew Marinette had her in mind when she was coming up with fashion ideas lately. Not that that was such a bad thing, since Marinette found that she enjoyed Chloé’s teasing. It was clearly meant in a friendly way, and after all, having Chloé as a friend was infinitely better than having her as an enemy.

What startled Marinette, now that they’d been working together for a couple weeks, was how compatible they seemed to be in spite of their differences. She had to admit that she’d been spending an increasing amount of time with Chloé since they’d become study partners… definitely more time than they needed to do their schoolwork. But she was having fun, and Chloé was, too. When they were outside of school, Chloé seemed relaxed and happy, and she turned out to share many of Marinette’s interests.

So yes, it was only natural that she looked forward to time with Chloé. The girl was fascinating, really. She was complicated and passionate and intelligent, and she really was making an effort to be open with Marinette, although Chloé still had an issue or two that made her guarded and hostile. The primary example of that was her father. He was the only major source of conflict between the two new friends.

Thinking of him did not improve Marinette’s mood. After the night of the party, even the mention of Mayor Bourgeois brought a grimace to Marinette’s face. And of course her inability to disguise her feelings towards him had led to arguments with Chloé. The blonde insisted that her precious papa had her best interests at heart, but Marinette couldn’t get his words from that night out of her head. Not wanting to return to the kind of fights they’d had in the past, the two new friends had come to an unspoken agreement not to bring him up unless absolutely necessary. 

Marinette didn’t feel she had much right to press the issue, either. She couldn’t shake the feeling that withholding the truth about her secret life as a superhero was unfair to Chloé, and who was she to tell another person to be more open and face their fears? Marinette wanted to tell Chloé about her life as Ladybug, and she was afraid. Chloé might very well find the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Ladybug were one and the same to be a disappointment. Chloé had this image of Ladybug that Marinette didn’t believe she could live up to, and it scared her that this might shatter a brand new friendship that had quickly come to mean so much to Marinette. That was the real truth. Disagreeing with Tikki was only an excuse. She wasn’t being honest—neither with Chloé nor Tikki—and both of them trusted her so completely.

But right now she was stuck, waiting for either Chloé to come clean, or Tikki to just agree that Marinette could confront Chloé and find out one way or another. Marinette had promised she wouldn’t move forward with telling Chloé until the kwami was comfortable with it, so she tried one distraction for herself after another, hoping that this time it would work. Of course, Chloé being here at school would help in that effort since she had quickly become the best part of Marinette’s school day. If she would hurry up and arrive, Marinette could busy herself with talk of homework and other subjects deemed school-safe with Chloé, but the blonde had texted her a few minutes earlier to say she was running behind.

Marinette looked around the room, and her eyes settled on Alya and Sabrina at the front of the room. There was one thing she could do, especially since Chloé wasn’t here yet. For almost two weeks, Alya had been avoiding her. Marinette had tried to check in with her again this morning, but Alya had begged off, saying she and Sabrina needed to put the final touches on their group project.

Marinette knew what or more accurately **who** was the source of the issue between Alya and her: a certain leggy blonde who had recently become Marinette’s partner. Alya wouldn’t admit she was avoiding Marinette because of Chloé, but it wasn’t as if she had ever been subtle about her dislike of Chloé. Lately, she was constantly staring daggers at Chloé when she thought Marinette wasn’t looking.

Chloé insisted she hadn’t spoken a word to Alya since the forced partnership with Marinette was announced, and if Chloé said she hadn’t messed with Alya, it was good enough for Marinette.

It was a little alarming how quickly she had come to trust Chloé, even if Marinette’s suspicion was correct and the blonde was aware of her secret and keeping it… which Marinette reminded herself again was something she was trying to avoid thinking about.

As part of her effort to do just that, Marinette had been telling herself she would fix this situation between her and Alya sooner or later. She decided it would be sooner. In fact, Marinette thought, “sooner” was about to become “right now.”

Anything was better than sitting there worrying if Chloé knew she was Ladybug. Cornering Alya was a much better idea.

She had twenty minutes until class began. Plenty of time to figure this out. No problem.

Marinette stood and walked to the front of the classroom where Alya sat. Sabrina was the first of the pair to notice her approach, and the redhead poked Alya in the shoulder to get her attention.

Marinette’s (hopefully still) best friend looked up just as Marinette came to a stop in front of her desk. Her expression was a perfect example of purposeful neutrality, which Marinette thought wasn’t a good sign. Alya didn’t really do neutrality.

“Alya,” Marinette said, cheerfully. “Can we talk for a second outside?”

Alya smiled sheepishly, saying, “I don’t really have time right now, Marinette. Sabrina and I need to finish up the last part of our project.”

Marinette glanced at Alya’s tablet where her Ladyblog was proudly displayed. Project… right. She looked back at Alya and frowned.

Alya had the decency to look embarrassed by her obvious lie at least.

“Marinette,” she began. “Look, I’ve been busy with this project and we’re not in the same classes anymore and,” Alya hesitated for a brief moment before pressing on. Her words had a harder, bitter edge to them. “And I’m not the only one who hasn’t had time. You’ve been really busy, too, with all the time you’re spending studying with Chloé.”

Marinette had suspected this might be part of it. Alya was upset over just how much time Marinette was spending with Chloé. She wasn’t the only one who picked up on Alya’s anger, either. Sabrina, too, gave Alya a hard look when she heard the disgusted way she said Chloé’s name.

“I promise,” Alya continued in a gentler tone. “After this project, you and I can hang out and catch up, okay? Maybe this weekend?”

For a long moment, Marinette was too upset to speak. Today was Monday. The project was due in a few minutes. There was absolutely no reason why she and Alya needed to wait until the weekend to hang out.

Alya interrupted her thoughts, continuing to offer reassurances that Marinette didn’t buy. 

“Marinette,” Alya continued. “I miss you, too, but you and Chloé finished your new project early. The rest of us have been really busy with this, though.”

When the mayor had left for his conference the morning after the party, Marinette and Chloé had gotten an exception to the assignment from Ms. Duvet, but there had been one big hiccup. Chloé had insisted on being the one to explain the situation to show Marinette she was going to put in the effort to turn over a new leaf, but Ms. Duvet had asked Marinette if Chloé was telling the truth—in front of the entire class. Of course Marinette had backed Chloé up, and she had even offered to Chloé privately that she would protest the unfairness of Ms. Duvet calling Chloé out like that, but it did little good. 

Despite Ms. Duvet agreeing to an exception to the assignment and Marinette’s support, Chloé’s mood had soured for a couple of days, and Chloé in a sour mood was not an easy thing to deal with. Fortunately, the new project had gone well, mollifying her new friend. They had completed it last Wednesday, long before it was due.

If that had been the end of it, things would have been fine. Granted, Marinette had felt guilty, even though it wasn’t her fault that everyone trusted her. She had given them good reason to do so over the years, and… well, Chloé hadn’t. That was the generous way to put it.

Marinette very carefully did not point out that fact, which ended up not mattering a bit in the end because Alya had overheard Chloé complaining, and rather happily explained to Chloé how Ms. Duvet’s lack of trust was not only deserved, but something Chloé should expect. The worst part was that Alya had decided the best time to make that declaration was in front of as many other students as possible.

Later, after Marinette managed to (mostly) calm Chloé down in private, she had asked Alya to lay off Chloé a bit. Marinette had explained that if Chloé was mad all the time, it would be harder on Marinette trying to help her study. Alya had said she understood and apologized to Marinette for making things more difficult. 

And then everything fell apart when Marinette asked Alya to apologize to Chloé, too. Needless to say, Alya hadn’t been very receptive to that idea.

She wouldn’t even have asked Alya to apologize, except she had found Chloé during lunch sitting in an empty classroom doing that thing Chloé did where instead of crying, she brooded and worked herself up to a point where she would begin randomly lashing out at anyone that upset her whether the offense was real or imagined. Marinette wasn’t sure exactly when she had come to understand Chloé’s internal workings or how she seemed to know precisely where Chloé was in that cycle of behavior at any given moment, but it didn’t matter. She was happy to give Chloé an outlet where she could find support instead of feeling so alone all the time.

Chloé deserved better than being alone.

That was a longer term problem, though. Right now, Marinette had a friendship to repair, and if this was the way Alya wanted to play it, fine. Marinette decided she needed to channel her inner Chloé Bourgeois. She had picked up a thing or two from Chloé in the past couple of weeks.

“No,” Marinette said forcefully and loud enough for the other students to hear. “I need to talk to you, and it can’t wait.” If Alya wanted to snub her as some form of weird punishment for not being okay with her embarrassing Chloé, then Marinette would offer her a choice. They could either have this out in private, or they could shout at each other in front of everyone. 

Sabrina started to say something, but Marinette cut her eyes and said, “Be quiet, Sabrina. This doesn’t involve you.”

Alya raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, someone’s starting to take after her study partner.”

Marinette met the barb with icy silence.

Alya blew out a breath. “Fine,” she said as she stood, and the two marched out of the classroom with everyone watching.

They didn’t stop until they were outside the building in the courtyard where Alya spoke first.

“Okay, Marinette,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her and tapping her foot. “Go ahead and lecture me for being mean to the most awful girl in school.”

Internally, Marinette bristled, but there was nothing she could say to counter Alya’s words. The agreement she had made with Chloé meant that the blonde would still behave in her usual manner at school. Marinette hoped to change Chloé’s mind over time, maybe somehow make her feel safe enough to stop pushing everyone away, but she couldn’t ask for a complete turnaround immediately.

Marinette had seen a whole other side to Chloé with what had happened at the party and after. The subsequent two weeks only revealed new depths that Marinette had never suspected in the years she had thought she knew Chloé.

The result of that instilled a deep protective feeling in Marinette… a feeling she absolutely couldn’t share with her best friend, Alya. In this instance, Chloé’s privacy came first.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she responded, “I don’t want to lecture you, Alya. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“But?”

Marinette sighed. “But humiliating her in front of the entire class like that?”

Alya narrowed her eyes. “Like she hasn’t done worse.”

“Yeah, she has,” Marinette agreed, hating every word against Chloé now coming out of her mouth. “And if she had been doing something awful, I wouldn’t have said a word.”

Marinette’s words were having an effect by the look on Alya’s face, so she continued. “She wasn’t, though, and you know it.”

Before Alya could respond, Marinette heard Chloé’s voice coming from behind her.

“Class is about to start, so can the two of you hurry up and finish your dumb little moment?”

Marinette turned to see Chloé sweeping past her and Alya on her way into the building.

The blonde continued, “I need Marinette’s notetaking services, and she’s barely useful doing that already. She’s no good to me at all if she’s late for class.” She stopped at the door and leveled a glare at the two of them. “Marinette, I need to freshen up, so you need to be in class for both of us.” She trailed off, making a hurrying gesture at the door.

Marinette glanced at Alya and could practically see steam coming off the girl. Chloé shrugged and went inside.

“ **That’s** who you’re defending?” Alya asked, incredulous.

“Technically,” Marinette answered. “I wasn’t exactly defending her.”

She grinned sheepishly at Alya who laughed.

“Fine,” Alya said. “I’ll apologize for my horrible crimes, but give me a day or two to work through the emotional trauma. Think she’ll apologize for treating you like a servant?”

“Not a chance,” Marinette said. It was a lie, but it was a necessary one or Chloé’s cover was as good as blown. In fact, Chloé would apologize the first opportunity they had to speak privately. She had done so for every time she said something mean or dismissive to Marinette post-party.

“C’mon,” Marinette said, pulling Alya towards the building. “I have notes to take.”

Alya followed along. “You have the patience of a saint.”

“It’s not that bad, actually. Now that she has to do her own work, it turns out she’s really smart.”

“Really?” Alya asked, dubious.

Marinette shrugged. She didn’t think this was breaking her word. “Yeah, especially in math and science.”

“Huh.”

“Speaking of taking notes for Chloé, how is Sabrina doing?” Marinette asked. One of the strange side effects of this whole situation was that Sabrina and Alya had quickly become friends.

“She’s doing okay,” Alya said, brightening, although she did look a bit embarrassed.

“You two are hanging out a lot lately,” Marinette said, fishing. She had heard as much from the other students in class, but she and Alya hadn’t spoken about it due to how events had been unfolding. 

Alya blushed, and Marinette felt the tiniest bit smug that her friend knew Marinette was aware she had been spending at least as much time with Sabrina as Marinette was with Chloé. 

Marinette wasn’t jealous, though. Nope. Not at all. She definitely was not jealous that Alya had to an extent replaced her, and she very definitely wasn’t jealous that unlike Alya and Sabrina, she and Chloé had to keep their friendship secret.

To prove that she said, “It’s okay, Alya! Making a new friend is always a good thing.”

Alya looked like she was about to say something but thought better of it. Likely, it was another dig at Chloé. Finally, she couldn’t seem to hold it in and said, “Yeah, it’s nice, and Sabrina’s finally coming out of her Stockholm syndrome phase at least.”

“What?” Marinette asked, hoping she didn’t sound angry at the implication Chloé had been holding the redhead hostage.

Alya chuckled. “She’s finally seeing how bad Chloé treated her all these years.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. It was true that Chloé wasn’t always kind to Sabrina, but Marinette didn’t like thinking about it. Chloé was trying to change, and that had to matter. “Chloé talks about her a lot. She misses her.”

“Misses her doing her homework, you mean,” Alya countered sarcastically.

“No,” Marinette insisted struggling to keep her tone even and not harsh. “She misses her friend.”

“Then maybe she should have treated her better,” Alya said, dismissively.

“I don’t think it’s too late,” Marinette argued. “They’ve been friends for years. That has to count for something.”

“She’s **mistreated** Sabrina for years,” Alya said as they neared the classroom. “She’s mistreated everyone.”

“It’s never too late to change, Alya,” Marinette insisted.

Alya shrugged as she stopped at the door. “In this case? I think it is. She could do a complete 180, and it wouldn’t make a difference.” Alya paused with her hand on the door handle, looking at Marinette. She frowned and said, “You can’t save everyone, Marinette. Look, I need a few days, okay? I get that you’re trying to see the best in her like you do everyone, but I don’t think she deserves it. Can we have lunch this weekend? We’ll talk about it, and I’ll apologize to her this week. I promise.”

Marinette nodded, hoping that Alya wasn’t simply putting her off until she could come up with another excuse not to spend time with her. Both girls walked to their seats with a couple of minutes before class was set to begin. Sighing, Marinette couldn’t help but consider her conversation with Alya. She very much hoped it wasn’t too late for Chloé and Sabrina. Chloé had been expressing regret at not spending much time with the redhead lately, and it would be a big blow to her if the friendship didn’t survive.

Marinette looked to the front of the class where Alya and Sabrina happily chatted. It was true that Chloé had saddled Sabrina with her homework and other menial tasks, but didn’t Sabrina have some obligation as a friend to try to understand where Chloé was coming from? And it wasn’t as if Sabrina had resented doing Chloé’s homework. She was eager to do it, and Chloé claimed it was easier to just let Sabrina do it than to constantly tell the redhead no and risk sending her into another crisis state ready to be akumatized.

Begrudgingly, Marinette had to admit that Sabrina did seem to like doing homework for other people. She herself had overheard Sabrina on more than one occasion the past few days trying to convince Alya to let her do her homework for her.

What Marinette had said to Alya was true, though. Chloé was better than Marinette in several subjects. It was a bit annoying, actually, but it was a minor irritation at most. There were advantages to Chloé being able to tutor her in certain classes instead of the other way around. Truthfully, Chloé didn’t need her help academically. That thought made Marinette feel uncomfortable, and she tried to push it out of her head.

Marinette realized she could have gone to the teachers and shown that Chloé was doing fine on her own, but she didn’t. She and Chloé agreed that homework was more fun when they did it together. Marinette had come to the puzzling realization that Chloé was the best partner she could have, which was weird because it wasn’t like her usual partner and best friend, Alya, was an academic slouch.

A motion to her left caught her attention, and she discreetly watched Adrien goofing off with Nino and Lila. If Marinette had pushed to break up her current arrangement, she might have used the opportunity to partner up with Adrien. Just thinking about partnering with Adrien for the current project made her feel short of breath and lightheaded. She could have overcome that, though.

Marinette knew Chloé would have understood, too. After the revelation of Chloé’s orientation, the blonde frequently encouraged Marinette to stop admiring Adrien from afar and take the initiative. Actually, after all the years of hostility where Adrien was concerned, it was jarring to see Chloé become as much of a cheerleader as Alya on the subject of Marinette’s dreams of romance. Chloé had even offered to help, which was sweet if somewhat worrying. Chloé’s help could be… aggressive.

Marinette sighed. It seemed she couldn’t help but think about Chloé, despite her worries that her new friend knew her secret. Alya had to be wrong. It couldn’t be too late for Chloé to turn things around. She had already altered her behavior at school.

The change was subtle, and Marinette doubted anyone would notice unless they were looking for it. Chloé would never admit it, but it was quite obvious to Marinette that the girl was simultaneously trying to figure out how to keep every person not named Marinette at a distance while also **not** making them feel like they were the biggest failures to ever walk the planet. The Chloé from more than two weeks ago didn’t believe she could keep people away without belittling and humiliating them.

Marinette believed that Chloé’s worst behavior was in the past. Chloé confessed privately to Marinette that their partnership felt like a fresh start of sorts, and the partnership was going… it was going so well it was a bit scary honestly.

Chloé had even stopped glomming onto Adrien for the most part. She did tell Marinette she couldn’t quit doing that altogether, because some of the boys in class had already picked up on her not being quite as visibly into Adrien and had begun flirting with the blonde, most especially Kim. Chloé admitted that state of affairs while the two girls gave each other pedicures last weekend, and she sounded terrified. Marinette had witnessed Kim coming onto Chloé a few days ago, and Marinette felt her blood run cold, which must have been because she could see how painfully uncomfortable Chloé was when it happened.

So, Marinette had to admit it was better for everyone involved if Chloé kept up the ruse that she was madly in love with Adrien, despite the fact Marinette hated watching Chloé cuddle up to him. Marinette was in love with Adrien after all, but… it was also hard watching him being cozy with Chloé.

Marinette told herself it was because Chloé deserved the kind of affection she desired from a girl who desired her, and she did believe that. Really. Having to use Adrien as a shield wasn’t fair to Chloé. He wasn’t going to ever make her happy. And Marinette feeling very uncomfortable with the idea of Chloé finding that special someone who would give her the kind of affection she deserved was naturally due to Marinette being excited over their new friendship, and okay, maybe she was a bit flattered that Chloé had a crush on Ladybug. That smug feeling of having a beautiful blonde finding her desirable would fade, though. Definitely. Soon. In the meantime, Marinette was excited about her new friendship and that was fine even if Chloé did know her secret… or was it especially if Chloé knew her secret?

Marinette decided to dwell on the prickly subject of just how excited she was at the prospect of spending time with a fully-informed Chloé later. The immediate problem was simpler: Chloé knew she was Ladybug. She had to know. Marinette was certain. **How** Chloé knew was a mystery since Marinette couldn’t ask directly. Tikki insisted that Marinette was wrong and Chloé didn’t know. The kwami also pointed out that Marinette’s cover would be well and truly blown if she confronted Chloé and found out her suspicion was misplaced.

Tikki also told Marinette she was worried about how excited Marinette was that Chloé might know. But it was a matter of trust. And yes, Marinette, for her part, was surprised by how quickly she had come to trust the person she once thought of as her worst (non-supervillain) enemy. If Chloé did know her secret, Marinette trusted her to keep it, and not only because Marinette kept hers.

That didn’t explain the how of it, though.

That was the part that was really driving Marinette crazy. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out how she had slipped up and revealed her identity. It wasn’t as if Marinette had disappeared too many times the past two weeks. There had been three akuma attacks during school hours, which was lower— **much** lower really—than the usual rate of attacks the past few years. A semi-reformed Chloé Bourgeois apparently cut down on akuma possessions a great deal. Regardless of the source, there had been only three attacks, and it wasn’t as if Chloé’s behavior changed after a couple of the attacks had occurred.

No, Chloé had started acting oddly as soon as the first attack happened. The school had been the target, surprising literally no one at this point. An art teacher who felt her students were mocking her had been possessed. Ladybug and Chat Noir had made fairly quick work of the akuma and freed the teacher, but when Marinette made it back to class, she found that she didn’t need to come up with any excuse as to what had happened to her. Chloé had already told everyone that Marinette had been separated from her and ducked into a bathroom as the akuma went by while Chloé fled in the opposite direction.

That was a complete lie, although later Chloé had insisted to Marinette that’s what she thought happened. When the brunette questioned her further, she claimed she had bumped her head, leading her to confuse Marinette with someone else. 

Marinette might have bought the story if Chloé hadn’t went through the same routine of making an excuse for Marinette after each of the subsequent attacks, including the third one last Thursday, which had happened on the other side of Paris in the middle of the afternoon and caused Marinette to take longer than usual to get back to school. Both times, Chloé had already come up with a reason why Marinette wasn’t there. Both times, she did her best to avoid Marinette’s questions about it.

And she hadn’t once asked Marinette where she had been during any of the attacks.

Once upon a time, Marinette would have chalked that up to Chloé simply not giving a fig about Marinette, but she was well aware that Chloé had come to value her and her friendship.

No. Chloé knew.

Now Marinette needed to figure out how to confirm this without risking her secret identity unnecessarily. Even though Tikki was adamant that Marinette was mistaken, she did appreciate Marinette’s caution in wanting to determine how much Chloé knew before committing. Unfortunately, neither of them had any ideas how to go about figuring out what Chloé did and did not know for sure. If the blonde only suspected Marinette was Ladybug, Marinette and Tikki could come up with a plan to throw her off the trail. But thinking about coming up with a plot to deceive Chloé made her feel nauseous.

Ugh. The problem was that Chloé was too good an actress. She had covered up her sexual orientation for years and was scarily effective at making herself seem like a hateful, ignorant shrew. Honestly, if she did know Marinette’s secret identity, Marinette was considering having Chloé coach her on maintaining a charade. It could come in handy, especially since Marinette found it difficult to come up with excuses to tell her friends and family regarding her frequent disappearances. Most people in her life thought she was a very well meaning, kindhearted girl who also happened to be a complete flake.

Further speculation was cut off as Chloé swept confidently into the classroom with the air of a queen surveying her subjects, which simultaneously amused Marinette and made her feel a bit of giddy awe at how Chloé commanded any room she entered. Chloé smiled at Sabrina and Adrien while not acknowledging the other students or the teacher except for the glower she directed at Marinette, who fought to keep a grin off her face. Instead, she did her best to look slightly annoyed, although Chloé had told her the other day that the expression she put on to look annoyed made her look sick to her stomach.

Chloé might be friendlier, but the edge was still there. That was fine by Marinette. She found she liked Chloé’s edge. It kept her on her toes.

As Chloé made her way to the desk beside Marinette, they shared a glare which meant something very different to the rest of the class than it did to the two girls. For Marinette and Chloé, it represented a shared, secret friendship. Everyone else was under the impression it meant the two were barely pretending to tolerate each other’s company while waging a war of wills where the victor would be the one that didn’t break first and launch herself physically at the other.

Marinette felt torn. On the one hand, she was used to keeping secrets as Ladybug out of necessity. On the other, she wasn’t sure that her increasing satisfaction at having a sensitive, caring version of Chloé all to herself was healthy exactly. 

But it was there all the same.

Marinette was excited to get up in the morning and perform the facial care routine that Chloé had shown her, because it was something just the two of them shared. She was excited to go to school and meet up with Chloé, and to work with her through the day and into the early evening on their homework. She was excited that Chloé supported her ideas on fashion design. She was excited to talk about all the things that had happened that day and to go and get ice cream while they window shopped. She was excited to be Chloé’s friend and confidante and wondered if maybe that was why she was secretly hoping that Chloé had figured out her identity. Then, she would share something else with Chloé… something as important as the secret Chloé shared with her.

Marinette wondered if she had a problem… Well, a problem besides the distinct possibility her secret identity had been compromised to Chloé, her former sworn enemy and current good friend, which put Chloé in incredible danger from Hawk Moth if he ever discovered the relationship. No, she wondered if somehow she was being too selfish and not putting Chloé’s safety and happiness first. She tried to look at the situation objectively but found she couldn’t, and when this came up with Tikki, Marinette finally lost patience at not having the kwami’s support when it came to Chloé.

How had her life become this complicated? It didn’t used to be. She used to get up in the morning, go to classes, hang out with Alya and her other friends, try to figure out how to have a successful conversation with Adrien, and fight alongside Chat Noir to save Paris from Hawk Moth’s victims. It wasn’t easy, but it was straightforward. This thing between Chloé and her was anything but straightforward. It was a whole mix of emotions Marinette had a hard time untangling.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Chloé said, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.

Marinette, by way of greeting the blonde, rolled her eyes hard. This was part of the arrangement. Marinette couldn’t just smile and say hello and ask about Chloé’s morning. Chloé needed to feel safe and having everyone think of her as a stuck up, selfish rich girl made her feel safe, so they alternated between hostility and disinterest at school. Marinette would keep Chloé and her secret safe no matter what, but she held out hope they might change their public dynamic in the future.

Thinking about Chloé living in fear made Marinette feel sick and angry and sad all at once. At least she didn’t have to fake looking upset.

She could see that she wasn’t fooling Chloé, though.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asked quietly as the other students stopped paying attention to the pair and returned to their own conversations.

Marinette responded quietly as well. She was getting used to whispers and texts as the main forms of communication with her friend during the day.

“Alya’s talking to me again, but I don’t know if it’s going to work out,” she responded.

Marinette knew Chloé’s instinct was to say that Marinette was better off without her. She could see the struggle on the girl’s face as she worked to say something nice about Alya. There was no love lost between those two.

“Because of me?” Chloé finally asked.

Marinette gave a small nod. “But it’s stupid. There’s no reason for her to act this way about you.”

“I’ve given her plenty of reasons over the years,” Chloé said. She looked at Alya and made a humming sound. “Want me to fix it?”

Marinette was afraid to know but asked anyway. “How?” she asked warily.

“The usual way. I’ll throw a tantrum directed at you. Alya will rush to defend you. You and I won’t speak for a couple of days. Problem solved.”

“No,” Marinette said, pouring as much finality into the word as she could muster.

“It would work,” Chloé countered. “Look how mad she was this morning when I only indirectly insulted you. And I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

Chloé was right. It would work, but it was too high a price for Marinette. She wasn’t sure how to say that without making things weird, so she just repeated her answer.

“No. And thanks for the apology, but don’t worry about it.”

Chloé shrugged. “Your choice.” She looked upset.

“Are **you** okay, Chloé?” Marinette asked, having no idea why being told not to make herself a target upset Chloé.

“I don’t like the idea of you losing a friend because of me. You might end up resenting me.”

“I’m not losing Alya. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually. And I don’t resent you. This is on her.”

Chloé nodded, but added, “If you change your mind, I haven’t had a good meltdown in weeks.”

Marinette snorted causing everyone to turn and look at her, but luckily Ms. Duvet called the class to order.

Marinette and Chloé switched to texting under their desks as Ms. Duvet talked.

 ** _Marinette:_** so u need a meltdown

 ** _Chloé:_** can be fun but dont need it

 ** _Chloé:_** glad u r talking with A

 ** _Marinette:_** thx asked A about S and shes fine

 ** _Chloé:_** she wud know

 ** _Marinette:_** what

 ** _Chloé:_** … theyre dating

Marinette looked up in surprise. She stared at the front of the room where Alya and Sabrina sat, and they did seem… cozy. She looked back down at her phone.

 ** _Chloé:_** u didnt know

 ** _Marinette:_** no r u sure

 ** _Chloé:_** uh yeah its obv

 ** _Chloé:_** wait u thought A only likes guys

 ** _Marinette:_** well shes never said anything

 ** _Chloé:_** … that flannel

 ** _Marinette:_** stereotype much

 ** _Chloé:_** no grl wears that much flannel unless they r sending a message

 ** _Chloé:_** and she is totatly hot for LBug gets wet at the mention

Marinette felt blazing heat in her cheeks. She risked a glance at Chloé and could see the telltale, subtle signs she had learned to pick up on that the blonde was also uncomfortable. 

Yeah. Chloé knew she was Ladybug alright. She pulled her attention away from Chloé back to her phone.

 ** _Marinette:_** ugh seroiusly gross chlo

 ** _Chloé:_** sry

 ** _Chloé:_** i miss S its making me grumpy

Marinette was glad to get away from the subject of her best friend potentially being into her superhero identity, but she hated that Chloé felt bad about Sabrina. Marinette decided she could sort through this information about Alya later. If anything, lunch this weekend would be interesting.

For now, she needed to focus on Chloé being okay.

 ** _Marinette:_** if u feel bad u can talk 2 me about anything

 ** _Chloé:_** SAme goes for u

 ** _Marinette:_** do u think I need 2 talk about something

 ** _Chloé:_** just offering

Marinette thought that might be intended as an opening to the Ladybug conversation, but it was vague enough to deny if Chloé wanted. Why couldn’t the girl just say that she thought Marinette was Ladybug? She would admit it, despite having told Tikki she would find a way to throw Chloé off her trail.

Marinette’s stomach lurched. She hadn’t realized until this moment she wanted Chloé to know badly enough to go back on her word to Tikki. It was just that it seemed so unfair. Marinette knew Chloé’s secret, and she often felt bad that she was keeping something as big or bigger from Chloé who put so much trust in her. She wanted to offer that trust back to her friend.

Ms. Duvet ended her instructions and let the class talk in their groups to put any finishing touches on their project, which she informed them was due at the end of the period with no exceptions.

“I’m okay,” Marinette said now that they were free to talk. “Not happy that Alya is being stubborn, but I’m okay.”

Chloé seemed satisfied with that.

Marinette kept the rest of their discussion to lighter fare for the rest of class. The day seemed to smooth out after first period. Marinette, however, felt depressed to realize that Alya being in different classes from her made things easier. She needed to fix that situation this weekend. That was if Alya didn’t find another excuse to bail on her.

She decided she didn’t want to think about that any longer. While listening to her literature teacher lecture about proper essay formats (and texting with Chloé about the ridiculous pants the man was wearing because what even) Marinette came to the conclusion she needed to resolve her Ladybug problem with Chloé. Today.

And there was only one person she could turn to for advice. Desperate times called for desperate measures. During a break, she sent a private communication to Chat Noir asking if he could meet her. She gave a time (coincidentally in the middle of lunch) and suggested the usual place. A few minutes later, he sent a message back saying he would be there with bells on.

Marinette assumed he was referring to the bell on his costume because Chat did love a good pun. She sighed, hoping this was the right call.

As lunch began, Marinette turned to Chloé and said, “Hey, I’ve got to run some errands for my parents.”

Marinette knew Chloé well enough at this point to know the look the blonde was giving her. It meant she didn’t buy what the other person was saying, and Marinette prepared a more detailed excuse.

“Okay,” Chloé said, and looked at her phone. “I want to see if I can pry Sabrina away from Alya for a few minutes. It’s hard to be a better friend if I can’t get ten minutes with her.”

Marinette swallowed the excuse she had on her lips. Chloé didn’t believe her, but she was letting it go. Chloé was a girl full of surprises, but possessing the ability to let things go was not usually one of them.

Chloé seemed to interpret Marinette’s lack of response as concern.

“Don’t worry, Marinette. I won’t have Alya kidnapped or insult her weird hair or anything,” the blonde said.

“Her hair isn’t weird, Chloé, and you know it.” Marinette knew the mild insult directed towards Alya was meant to distract her, but she was okay with that.

It was almost as if Chloé was doing it so Marinette didn’t have to come up with a better excuse. And that wasn’t suspicious. Not at all. Nope.

Chloé made a noise of dissatisfaction. She turned in the other direction saying, “Fine, fine. Go run your errands and we’ll meet back up in class.”

Marinette quickly ran behind the school into an alley and transformed. Within minutes, she was at the Eiffel Tower and waiting for Chat.

It was a beautiful day in Paris, marred only by Chat being ten minutes late. He vaulted to Ladybug’s side with a flourish as he arrived. Marinette would have to talk quickly if she didn’t want to be late getting back to class.

“My lady,” he began and took her hand as if to kiss it. “You are as breathtaking as ever.”

Marinette yanked her hand back. She did not have time for this.

“If you were on time, you might not be out of breath,” she said with more bite than she intended. Playing word games (okay and mildly flirting) with Chat was usually fun. Now was not the time for it, though.

Chat looked up, his green eyes filled with concern. “Is something the matter, my lady?”

Marinette sighed and sat down on the scaffolding. “I don’t know. Maybe? Probably? Yes.”

Chat sat beside her. “What can I do?”

Marinette liked this quiet version of Chat best. Sure, he was salacious and there were times Marinette wondered if he knew how to talk to a woman at all, but he did have a good heart, and he was a great partner. If Adrien hadn’t been in the picture, she could have easily seen herself with Chat.

“I think…” she began. “I think someone knows my identity.”

Chat’s ears perked up, and he narrowed his eyes. “Is he threatening you, my lady? Or trying to blackmail you?” he asked angrily.

Marinette blinked. “No!” she insisted. “No, it’s not that. I’m… ugh… just let me explain first, okay?”

It only surprised her a little bit that Chat assumed Marinette was talking about a he. Chat was often envious of any boy who might be close to Ladybug. She figured it couldn’t hurt to refrain from correcting him, although she didn’t want to outright lie.

Chat nodded and remained silent.

“I think someone has figured out who I am,” she said. “I don’t know for sure. They act like they know, but not in a bad way. Does that make sense?”

“Not really, my lady,” Chat said honestly. He refrained from going further, though, which Marinette appreciated.

“They make excuses for me when I have to duck out to fight akumas. They never ask where I’ve been. I… I think they’re protecting me.”

“That sounds too good to be true,” Chat offered.

“No, it’s not. I trust them… Well, I trust them with my life. This person wouldn’t betray me,” Marinette said quietly.

Chat looked offended. “I’m glad he’s in your corner,” he said, although his tone indicated he was anything but glad.

She didn’t have time to soothe his jealousy, though.

“I think I’ve made a decision,” she said. “I’m going to ask and if they don’t know, I’m going to tell them.”

Chat didn’t like that. “You’ll tell him? You shouldn’t put yourself at risk like that, my lady!”

Marinette glared at him. Trusting Chloé wasn’t a risk. He just didn’t know her like Marinette did.

“It’s my call, Chat, and this is another good reason we don’t reveal our identities to each other.” She paused at his hurt glare. “I mean it, Chat. They won’t know your identity, so you’re safe.”

“I don’t care about that, my lady. I care about you,” he said forcefully.

It was nice but unnecessary for him to worry. “I’ll be fine.”

He reached out as if to take her arm, but she backed away.

She pulled her yoyo from her side and said, “Stay safe, Chat.”

He sighed, dropping his arm and said, “You, too, my lady.”

Marinette spun out her yoyo and swung off, not going directly towards school. She didn’t want to give Chat a hint like that. She made better time than she had expected and arrived with a few minutes to spare, landing in the alley beside the school where she usually transformed.

As she walked out of the alley, she was stopped in her tracks at the sight of Alya and Sabrina a few feet away, hugging. Wait… as she leaned further around the corner, she realized that what she was seeing was less “friendly hug” and more “passionate embrace.” Fortunately for Marinette, both of them were too preoccupied to notice her. 

Alya was nuzzling into Sabrina’s neck, and the redhead was making a low moaning sound that bordered on obscene. Sabrina ran one hand through Alya’s thick hair while the other hand pulled her girlfriend as close as possible… which was pretty darn close in Marinette’s opinion.

For a brief moment, Marinette stood frozen, and as Sabrina’s moan took on a slightly higher pitch, an image of Chloé flashed through Marinette’s mind.

She ducked back into the alley, wondering where that came from. It had to be because Chloé had been talking about the two dating. Of course that was it.

She heard a squeal and a giggle, then she could hear Alya say in a playful tone, “We have to get to class, Babe.”

“Want to skip and make out some more?” Sabrina asked, breathless.

“Oh, you want to misbehave?” Alya responded, voice low and teasing.

Marinette wondered if she should transform again to get away from this very private conversation, or if she should just shove her fingers in her ears and hum to shut out the sound.

“Yes,” Sabrina said, giggling. “I’m going to be very bad. Just. For. You.”

Oh god, Marinette thought, blushing. Kill me now. 

“Ooh,” Alya cooed. “After class?”

She didn’t hear a verbal response, but she did hear Alya make some sort of surprised noise, so it wasn’t too hard to figure out Sabrina’s answer.

Then, thankfully, the pair rushed towards the school. 

As soon as they were inside, Marinette followed. She barely made it to class on time.

“Cutting it close, Marinette,” Chloé said under her breath as she sat down next to her.

“Yeah, sorry,” Marinette responded. “Took longer to pick up the delivery than I thought.”

Chloé nodded, looking concerned. “Why are you flushed?”

Marinette stared at her desk so intently, she thought it might catch fire. “I ran into Alya and Sabrina on my way back.”

“Oh?” Chloé asked, looking hurt. “I wanted to have lunch with Sabrina, but I couldn’t find either her or Alya, and Sabrina didn’t answer my text.”

“Yeah… they were… **busy**.”

“Oh, really?” Chloé asked, her expression shifting immediately from sadness to an eager smirk.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah… so you were right about them dating.”

Chloé grinned so maniacally that a couple of nearby students shifted their chairs away with very concerned looks.

Fortunately, the teacher came in and the students focused their attention to the front of the class.

“Hey,” Marinette whispered as the teacher called the class to order. “I have to go home for a couple of minutes after school before I swing by your place.”

“Want me to come along?” Chloé said, whispering as well. That was an improvement. In the old days, she would have just talked over the teacher.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Marinette said. This was the first time Chloé had ever offered to come by her place. She would have liked that any day other than today, although she still hadn’t told her parents anything other than the vaguest details about her new study partner. “You won’t even have time to miss me.”

She winked at Chloé, who rolled her eyes.

“Work on your game, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé replied sarcastically. “You’ll never get the girl flirting that badly.”

Marinette blushed and Chloé smirked. One day, Marinette would get the upper hand in their friendly game of teasing innuendo. One day…

Nerves consumed Marinette for the rest of the school day. She could tell Chloé wanted to ask her what was the matter, but the blonde gave her space, which was good. They couldn’t have this conversation in public.

After the final bell, she told Chloé she would meet up in half an hour at Chloé’s suite. Then she ducked back into the alley where she had transformed into Ladybug earlier.

“Tikki,” she said. “I’m going to need to transform one more time.”

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Tikki asked. “You look upset.”

Marinette swallowed. “I have to tell Chloé. I know you’ve seen how hard she’s trying.”

Tikki sat on Marinette’s shoulder and was quiet for a minute. “I can’t stop you, Marinette, but the rules—”

“I know, Tikki,” Marinette interrupted. “I know, but this is killing me. I don’t even know how to explain it, but keeping it from her just feels wrong, and it’s driving me crazy. And I know she knows already.”

Tikki shook her head, saying, “She doesn’t know, Marinette.”

“What makes you so sure, Tikki? I mean, she’s spending a lot of time with me and it’s not like I look very different in and out of costume. Actually, I’m surprised no one else has put two and two together before.”

The kwami hopped down and scuffed her foot on the ground, and looking embarrassed. “Marinette, I’ve never told you about this because you’ve never insisted on telling anyone. I always thought this conversation would be over Adrien if it happened at all.”

“What haven’t you told me, Tikki?”

“The magic of the Miraculous prevents anyone from knowing who you are unless you tell or show them,” Tikki explained. “There’s no way other than you specifically showing them something or saying something that lets them know. The magic keeps anyone from figuring it out on their own, and I know you haven’t said anything.”

“Well, that’s good to know, but I can feel it here,” Marinette said, pointing to her heart. She repeated herself for emphasis. Tikki had to understand. “I can feel it here in my heart, Tikki. She knows. And not talking about it—not being honest with her—feels like I’m being torn in half.”

Tikki considered Marinette and seemed to almost speak twice before stopping. Finally, she said, “You know it? In your heart?”

Marinette nodded. “I do.”

Tikki considered that for what felt like hours to Marinette before speaking again. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

Marinette nodded again. “It is, Tikki, but I want to how to make this okay with you, too.”

Tikki smiled up at Marinette. “It’ll be nice to officially meet her.”

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief and gave the kwami a cookie she had been saving for her to bring her energy up. They had a few minutes, so the two of them discussed the best way to go about it. Finally, they settled on a plan of action, and Tikki transformed Marinette.

She sprinted across the rooftops until Le Grand Paris was in sight. It was now or never. Gathering her courage, she used her yoyo to swing over to Chloé’s balcony.

It was time. She raised her hand to knock, but her nerve failed her, if only for a second. Marinette closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tapped her fist against the window.

She froze, fist against the glass, and didn’t open her eyes again until after Chloé opened the balcony window. As the window opened, she could smell Chloé’s perfume and immediately Marinette felt herself relax.

This was the right thing to do. Which must have been why, for the first time in days, she felt right.

She opened her eyes to see a grinning Chloé in front of her. Marinette’s heart soared.

“Ladybug!” Chloé exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise!”

The blonde stepped to the side and grabbed Marinette by the wrist saying, “Come in! Come in!”

Marinette allowed herself to be led into the room.

“What brings you here, Ladybug?” Chloé asked. “Checking in on your Number One Fan?”

Chloé’s words sparked a thought that had been playing on the edges of Marinette’s mind. In the past, Chloé had never missed an opportunity to sidle up to Ladybug after an akuma attack, but she hadn’t shown up in the last two weeks—not even once—even with two attacks at school. When Chloé had admitted to having a crush on Ladybug, Marinette had assumed that was what seemed to always draw the blonde to her when she was in costume. Despite the crush being very awkward for Marinette (and even now she felt her cheeks go hot,) she wondered if maybe the knowledge that Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng were one and the same had extinguished Chloé’s feelings for Ladybug. Maybe it was vain of her, but the idea that Chloé didn’t feel that way any longer made her feel a sting of regret.

Chloé was still chattering about how she had missed Ladybug and they should totally eat dinner together. The blonde picked up a menu and her phone to order room service, when Marinette stopped her.

“Chloé,” she said, quickly before she had the chance to lose her nerve. It didn’t matter if Chloé’s feelings had changed. Marinette was lucky to count her as a friend, and she deserved honesty. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Chloé turned to face Marinette, who had slipped her mask off.

Chloé hissed—she literally hissed—and ran past Marinette, scrambling to close her curtains.

“Marinette, you have to be careful! It wouldn’t be the first time the paparazzi aimed cameras at my windows!” the blonde snapped at Marinette as she drew the last curtain closed. 

“I didn’t even think about that,” Marinette said.

“I think we’re okay,” Chloé assured her, walking over and giving the brunette’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

Marinette stood there, fidgeting from foot to foot. “I guess you know already,” she said tentatively. “Or I’m a total idiot.”

“No,” Chloé said. “You’re not an idiot at all.”

The blonde surprised Marinette with a crushing hug as she continued to talk. “I didn’t want you feel like you had to tell me… like you owed me that because you know my secret.”

Marinette pulled back slightly and smiled although she was careful not to break the embrace. It was nice to know that Chloé felt comfortable enough to show friendly affection like this. “That’s why you didn’t say anything?”

Chloé shrugged and let go of Marinette. The two of them sat cross-legged on the bed before Chloé spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have your secrets put out there without anyone asking if it’s okay. I… I didn’t want that for you.”

Marinette was touched. She took Chloé’s hands in hers and squeezed. “I… thank you. You’re not mad I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“Marinette,” Chloé scolded. “You didn’t have to tell me now.”

“I should thank you for helping me come up with excuses,” Marinette teased.

“I will always protect your secret. I would have gone to my grave with it whether you officially told me or not.”

“Whoa, let’s not get carried away. No graves, alright?” Marinette hadn’t meant to make Chloé feel like she had to defend herself. “I don’t want you in any danger. That’s why I’ve never told anyone. If my enemies find out… I don’t even want to think about it.”

Chloé smiled, pulling her hands free gently. “I can handle myself.”

“Don’t I know it.”

They both laughed. This was going well. Marinette was glad. She was curious about a couple of things, though.

“How did you know, Chloé? The magic is supposed to prevent anyone from figuring it out unless I show them or tell them.”

Chloé looked down. She had that small, fragile smile Marinette remembered from the dress shop. It was as captivating now as it had been then.

“You didn’t tell me, but you did show me. Remember the barista that I kind of tormented into turning into a monster?” she asked, taking Marinette’s mask from the brunette’s hand and holding it reverently.

Marinette nodded. “How could I forget? That’s what started all this.”

“And remember when you got burned by her steam wand?”

Marinette squinted at her friend, unsure where this was leading.

“And remember borrowing pajamas that were too big for you after the party? And those pajamas slipping off your shoulders when you woke up the next morning?”

Marinette gasped. “You saw the burn on my back!”

Chloé looked up, grinning sheepishly.

“Wait,” Marinette said, realization dawning. “You knew that morning? And you didn’t say anything?”

Chloé shrugged and glanced around the room, like she was trying to look at anything except Marinette. “I had admitted the night before to a suddenly very embarrassing crush on Ladybug, aka you, Marinette, so I wasn’t really eager to confront you. Then I thought about it, and I decided it was your secret to tell me if you ever wanted.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure how to talk about… the crush thing. I would have stopped you, but I was sort of surprised and you really needed someone to talk to.”

“I’m not mad about that, Marinette. It had to be horribly embarrassing for you.” She looked sad, as if her crush was something repellent.

Marinette sat up straight. “No, it’s flattering. I mean… you know how I feel about Adrien, but you’re gorgeous and smart and a really good friend.” She paused and frowned. “Am I making this awkward?”

Chloé laughed. “I think it’s awkward no matter what we say at this point.”

Marinette nodded and moved on to ask her next big question.

“Chloé,” she began. “Why have you been avoiding me as Ladybug? Did you think I would figure out you knew?”

“Well, you did that anyway, didn’t you?”

Marinette nodded. “Then why?”

Chloé frowned and looked down and began picking at a loose string on the comforter. “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

Chloé stared at the mask she still held in one hand, but she subconsciously began tapping out a now-familiar rhythm on her knee.

“Before… Before, I know I had a crush and all—which yes, it is humiliating by the way to confess your secret crush to a friend and find out they **are** the secret crush—but it was… I’m not sure how to put it…” Chloé paused, thinking. Marinette found an embarrassed Chloé to be very adorable. “You see someone out there and you admire them and you get they’re risking their life to save people, but then you find out more about who that person **really** is. You get to know them. And it gets… very real.”

“You’re scared for me?” Marinette asked, brow furrowed.

Chloé nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said. The last thing she wanted was Chloé worrying for her.

“Don’t be,” Chloé said looking up with fierceness in her eyes. “Someone **should be** scared for you.”

“I don’t understand,” Marinette responded.

“You go out there,” Chloé continued. “And you risk your life all the time for Paris. You risk your life for me and all the other students at school. You deserve someone wanting more than anything else that you come back okay.”

Marinette felt herself tearing up. “Oh,” was all she could say.

Chloé threw herself backwards to lie on the bed. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Marinette answered, softly. “It’s… touching. I’m glad you care about me.”

Chloé snorted out a laugh. “Well, I did kind of say I had a huge crush on you.”

Marinette blushed furiously. “That doesn’t count. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you tell me.”

Chloé looked up, puzzled. “Why not?”

“It wasn’t fair to you!” Marinette exclaimed. “You put yourself out there like that and you needed a friend to support you and you shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed over this. Are you sure you don’t hate me?”

She was on the verge of rambling, but Chloé stopped her by putting a gentle hand on her forearm.

“No, Marinette,” Chloé said impatiently. “I don’t hate you. I just wish I hadn’t said how hot I think Ladybug is.”

Marinette started giggling nervously, and she felt like her stomach was about to jump out of her body and run a marathon. She really needed to change the subject.

“There’s someone I would like you to meet, Chloé.”

With that, she focused and transformed back to her civilian identity. Tikki stood on the bed between the two girls.

Chloé made some sort of high pitched squeal that Marinette didn’t realize any human was capable of making.

Tikki looked unsure whether she should flee or hide behind Marinette. “Hi?” she said tentatively.

“And you talk!” Chloé squeaked. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m acting like a fool.” She covered her bright red face with her hands.

Tikki laughed. “I’m Tikki! It’s nice to meet you. Marinette really likes you, so I’m sure we’ll be friends.”

Chloé examined Tikki from between her fingers. “So I’m guessing you give Marinette her Ladybug powers? I mean you’re like a really cute, tiny Ladybug person, so…”

Tikki nodded proudly and said, “You bet!” She proceeded to explain how the Miraculous powers worked and what precisely a kwami was.

Marinette watched the two as they talked and felt warmth spread through her chest. This was going to work out fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have the second big reveal! Now they're on equal ground and in a sense full partners. It's also nice to get to the payoff for something I seeded in Chapter 2 with the burn on Marinette's back. I'll warn you now, I tend to do things like that often.
> 
> Yeah, this one ended up being a very long chapter at nearly 11,000 words. Both my beta reader (Shout out to the always wonderful asimaiyat!) and I wrestled with this thing for a long time and in some ways it's the chapter I feel least confident in because it has to do a lot of heavy lifting that makes the final four chapters work. This chapter is so long, I'm not quite sure what to say as far as commentary. I'll simply say that I hope it's an enjoyable read and I look forward to any comments! I've really appreciated people leaving comments in previous chapters. It makes everything worthwhile.
> 
> Chapter 7 should post as scheduled on Monday!


	7. The Urge to Serve Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.
> 
> \- _Arthur Ashe_ (Date Unknown)
> 
> Song Choice: “Falling Slowly” as performed by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Football = Soccer in the US

These past few weeks were the best days of Chloé’s life, although this particular moment watching Marinette fight a very dangerous akuma wasn’t going on her highlight reel. But overall, yes, this was the happiest she had been in years. In truth, it scared her a little. Happiness never worked out for Chloé. She might enjoy it briefly, but it could never last. Everything falls apart. That was a lesson she had learned well years ago. 

This time would be different, though. Chloé was aware of what would happen going in. It wouldn’t be like it was with Angelique. Chloé wouldn’t allow it. She had made the conscious decision over a month ago, when she discovered that Marinette was Ladybug, that she would hold onto this happiness with all her strength, but she would also know when she had to let go for Marinette’s sake.

That was the key. Chloé had to put Marinette first. To remind herself, she had added a new part to her morning recitation, and it helped, giving her some small measure of peace. Now every morning after Chloé’s promise to her mother, she looked at the framed photo of Ladybug she had sat beside her mother’s picture and made a promise to Marinette: “I will always put your happiness first.”

Nothing lasts forever, but the end of this dream or fantasy or whatever it was wasn’t going to come at the price of Marinette’s happiness. Chloé was determined, and a determined Chloé Bourgeois was a force. For once, she was going to turn that force to protecting another instead of herself. This a repeat of Angelique. It would be different. Marinette would be happy.

And that burning, pressing urge to give Marinette whatever she needed was why this morning Chloé was sitting in an empty classroom, gripping her tablet so hard her knuckles were white. Every time Marinette went out to do battle with the latest akuma, this is what Chloé did. She waited. She watched. She worried. She also silently said thanks to Alya for giving her a way to keep track of Marinette due to her insistence on filming Ladybug at any opportunity.

Chloé didn’t personally care for Alya Cesaire, and it was clear that the hostility was mutual. Chloé was under no illusion that the difficulties between them were anyone’s fault except her own, but recently there had been a new wrinkle. Alya seemed to have distanced herself from Marinette these past few weeks, although now they were at least speaking and tentatively spending brief amounts of time together. Things had changed between the two, though, and Chloé suspected Alya knew that she and Marinette weren’t the mortal enemies they were still pretending to be. Alya hadn’t said anything about it, though, and Marinette insisted on holding out hope that her old friend would eventually warm to her new one if Alya did in fact suspect.

Marinette was an optimist, which baffled Chloé. She couldn’t complain, though. That optimism was why Marinette granted her a second chance. She would always be grateful for Marinette’s optimism, and if that led Marinette to feel her best friend, Alya, would find her way back to Marinette in the end, Chloé had no right to argue especially since Marinette had backed off when it came to Papa. 

Alya was precious to Marinette meaning the girl was now precious in a certain fashion to Chloé as well, despite the fact she would go to her grave before admitting it. Anyone and anything that made Marinette happy mattered to Chloé, so the blonde spent a lot of time worrying that Alya was about to get herself killed trying to film Ladybug fighting superpowered monster-people for her ridiculous Ladyblog.

For once, though, Chloé was thankful the fool didn’t have the sense to stay as far away from these akumatized monster people as she could. Otherwise, Chloé wouldn’t be watching an excellent quality livestream of Ladybug right now. Granted, the downside was that Chloé had a really **excellent** view of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting a particularly dangerous akuma.

It was with these competing emotions that Chloé sat both surging with pride for Marinette and filled with absolute dread over the incredible danger Marinette faced. Yes, Chloé was well aware that happiness didn’t last. People either left or were taken from you. She hated the impermanence of it all.

Of course, she didn’t hate that as much as she hated whoever this jerk akuma was. He was obviously some dumb jock football player considering the fucker was kicking exploding footballs at Ladybug, and every single one had enough power to shake the entire school when the detonated! 

Oh, and Chat Noir was on the receiving end of a few exploding footballs, too… and alright fine, she didn’t want him dead either, but at the moment it was hard for Chloé to see past the danger Marinette was in. Normally, she was an expert at pretending things she didn’t like were nonexistent, but…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the building shaking from another football blast, and a layer of dust floated down from the ceiling. Chloé resigned herself to the fact she would be filthy after this was over, and for once in her life she didn’t care about that at all. 

This bastard needed to go down fast, and Chloé was left hoping that Chat Noir used Cataclysm on this idiot’s face.

What was Hawk Moth **thinking**? Marinette and Tikki had explained to Chloé everything they knew about Hawk Moth and what his or her powers were. Chloé wasn’t happy that after several years all Marinette knew about her archenemy was that he or she was a nut who kept creating villains via dark butterflies and used them to try and get ahold of Marinette’s and Chat’s miraculous items. Lately, the danger levels of the attacks had been escalating. This seemed counterproductive, like the villain had given up on collecting the items and would be satisfied with Ladybug’s… 

Chloé couldn’t bear to finish that thought.

If she were the villainous type, she might appreciate Hawk Moth’s dedication to the cause even if an exploded miraculous probably wasn’t very useful, but she wasn’t the villainous type (any longer.)

Watching the scene unfold on her tablet, Chloé made a vow as this akumatized puppet tried his level best to murder the girl she loved that there was going to come a day where she would find Hawk Moth and on that day—Oh! On that wonderful, blessed day!—Chloé would wrap her perfectly manicured fingers around Hawk Moth’s scrawny neck, and she would squeeze until his or her eyes popped out of his or her skull.

And oh god there was something terribly wrong with that train of thought. Not the revenge fantasy, no that was fine; she traced her steps backward with a sinking feeling as she realized that she’d started using the L-word when she thought about Marinette. 

She was in love with Marinette. 

She was so screwed.

“I’m in love with Marinette,” she said to the empty classroom. What a stupid time for an epiphany.

Marinette could never know. Never ever **ever**. That would be disastrous. Marinette trusted Chloé, and now Chloé betrayed her like this? Marinette believed Chloé could be a better person… in fact, she was the **only** person who believed Chloé could be a better person… and Chloé wasn’t going to let her down by doing something stupid like falling in love. That was a burden she would spare Marinette.

No. Marinette was in love with Adrien. She belonged with the boy she loved. That was the right and proper order of things. End of discussion.

Chloé was glad she could at least suppress that unacceptable emotion. Now she could focus on not crying after seeing Marinette get caught in the blast of one of those stupid, stupid footballs. Chloé Bourgeois did **not** cry. Ever.

At least Chat Noir had pulled her (mostly) out of the way at the very last moment. If this continued, she might revise her opinion of him—as long as he would stop throwing himself at Ladybug like a slimeball, because again, Marinette belonged with Adrien. Not Chloé and definitely not some spandex-wearing buffoon.

But he had just saved Ladybug, so Chloé refrained from thinking the worst of him.

Chloé dabbed lightly at her eyes with a tissue, trying not to ruin her makeup. Why was she on the verge of crying? This was dumb. She had to get a hold of herself. Soon, Marinette would beat the snot out of this akuma and she would find Chloé and there was no way Chloé was going to allow Marinette to see her like this.

Marinette would be fine. Chloé kept repeating this as a mantra, trying to enforce her will on the universe.

Marinette would be fine…

Marinette would be fine…

Marinette would be fine…

Over and over she repeated this in her head and cursed the tears that wouldn’t stop forming at the corners of her eyes.

In the middle of a chain of horrifying explosions, Alya’s camera couldn’t track the action any longer. There was only a dark cloud of dirt drifting in the air after the multiple explosions, and there was this building, screaming fear rising in Chloé’s stomach, quickly washing through every part of her mind and body.

But then the cloud began to settle and Chloé could see someone. It was the student who had been akumatized, now mercifully unconscious and human again. Chat Noir stood over him looking exhausted.

But there was no sign of Marinette.

“Where’s Marinette?!”

She didn’t realize she was screaming the words at the broadcast on her tablet until she heard an answer from the direction of the window.

“I’m right here, Chloé,” Marinette said, concern etched onto her masked face.

Chloé’s heart felt like it had stopped.

Marinette hopped down from the window and quickly transformed as she walked purposefully towards Chloé. Tikki sat on the brunette’s shoulder. They both shared very concerned expressions.

“You’ve been crying,” Marinette stated gently but with a tone that said she wasn’t going to let Chloé argue otherwise. Marinette sat in the seat next to Chloé’s. She didn’t take her eyes off Chloé, which made the blonde feel very uncomfortable considering the circumstances.

“I have not been crying,” Chloé insisted. “I never cry. You know that. These unused rooms are full of dust, and my allergies flared up.”

“Since when do you have allergies?” Marinette asked, tilting her head in disbelief.

Tikki hopped over to Chloé’s shoulder and sat. She seemed to understand the blonde didn’t want to talk, so she just smiled and said, “It’s okay, Chloé. Marinette’s fine.”

“Chloé,” Marinette said hesitantly before Chloé had a chance to respond to Tikki. “Is all this too hard for you?”

Chloé shook her head. “I knew what I was getting into,” she said, trying and failing to sound cheerful. Her voice betrayed her, trembling with anxiety. “It’s tough watching you risk your life, but you have Chat with you and I’m not bailing on Team Ladybug now.”

That was the name that Chloé and Tikki had come up with, declaring themselves Marinette’s support team. It had seemed so innocent and lighthearted at the time. Giant explosions and near death experiences made that look like the fantasy it was.

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes. She pretended to hate Chloé’s and Tikki’s nickname for their partnership. Chloé knew Marinette didn’t really hate it. When she did hate an idea, her nose crinkled in a very certain, subtle way… and those were the kinds of things Chloé definitely needed to stop noticing.

“C’mon, Chloé,” she said playfully, a hint of a whine in her voice that Chloé always had a hard time resisting. Not for the first time, she wondered if Marinette was aware of the effect she had on Chloé. “Give me something to work with. What’s wrong?”

“Not here, Marinette, please?” Chloé begged. “We can talk later… after school.”

Marinette frowned, her expression growing more concerned. “How about over lunch?”

Chloé nodded. Marinette wasn’t going to drop this.

“Okay,” Marinette said, smiling. “Let’s go.”

“Go?”

“To lunch. Me. You. Food. Eating.”

“But…” Chloé looked at the time on her tablet. “Oh, I guess it is time for lunch.” It bothered her that she had lost focus so badly.

“I know just the place,” Marinette declared. “Remember that café where one mediocre cup of coffee landed you in this mess?”

“First,” Chloé responded, raising a hand indignantly and counting on her fingers. “I like ‘this mess’ quite fine. Second, that latte was criminally bad. Third, I might be banned from that café. I’m not sure, but I haven’t been back to check. Fourth, that’s too far away. We’ll miss Biology.”

“I’m sure Mr. Roche will be heartbroken,” Marinette deadpanned. She didn’t like their Biology teacher. His treatment of the two over the frog dissection saw to that. “And don’t worry. By the time we’re ready to come back, Tikki should be recharged. I can transform and get us back here with plenty of time to spare. Tikki should be fine to see that Ladybug has us back on time or close to it. Anyway, when did you become the responsible one?”

Chloé snorted and shook her head. “I’m not, and it’s your word against mine. Right, Tikki?”

“Sure thing!” Tikki grinned. “Do you have any cookies, Chloé?”

Chloé smiled at the kwami. “Of course,” she said and pulled out the emergency cookies from her bag. “I would never let my favorite magical friend down.”

Marinette laughed. “The two of you are conspiring against me!”

Chloé stuck her tongue out playfully and handed Tikki cookie.

A big part of Chloé’s role, in her own opinion, was to make sure that she had on hand whatever Marinette and Tikki might need whether it was cookies for the kwami or a first aid kit for Marinette. She packed a bag every day with what she considered necessities. If Marinette hadn’t agreed at first that concealer was a necessity, she certainly had when an akuma left a rather ugly bruise on her jaw last week. Chloé had thought herself useful when she had shakily disguised the bruise, but after today, Chloé didn’t feel she had anything to contribute that really mattered.

“Thanks, Chloé!” Tikki said. “You’re the best Bug Buddy a kwami could have!”

Chloé smiled affectionately at Tikki who took the cookies and nestled into Chloé’s bag. The first time that had happened, Marinette was a bit unnerved, but she seemed fine now with Tikki sharing time between the two girls.

Marinette groaned. “I get enough of the bug jokes from Chat, you guys.”

“So, you don’t want me to buy you a Bug-Mobile?” Chloé teased, trying to force her mood back to something resembling her normal self.

“Please, no,” Marinette said, groaning. “Let’s just go get a latte and a sandwich. I’m starving.”

“I think I’m a bad influence, Marinette,” Chloé said cutting her eyes at the brunette as they nonchalantly walked out of the school building like they weren’t breaking any rules at all. “Cutting class… disrespecting our hardworking faculty… What’s next? Randomly vandalizing school property? Starting up a protection racket?”

Marinette laughed and replied under her breath. “No, but with the amount of times I’ve rebuilt parts of this place over the years, I think I could make a claim I’m owed some time off.”

“I’ll write up an itemized bill so you’ll be able to make that argument when we’re sitting in the principal’s office later,” Chloé said, laughing and, once they were out of sight of the school, slipped her arm through Marinette’s so that they walked arm in arm until they arrived at the café.

It was a beautiful day for a walk, and Chloé found she was able to recover most of her emotional equilibrium. She felt shaky but not like she was going to collapse. She would take it.

“Marinette,” Chloé said as they walked. “Why this café?”

“Hm,” Marinette began. She made little noises like that when she was gathering her thoughts. Chloé found it endearing. “Well, the last time you and I were there, I… um… yelled at you. A lot. I had pretty much given up on you as irredeemable.”

The brunette noticed the downcast look Chloé now had and quickly continued. “I want you to know how wrong I was. I didn’t look deeply enough to see, and I should’ve.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “I think I might have had a little to do with that.”

Marinette giggled. “You did. But the point is we’re in a better place now, and I want to go there to… Well, to prove it. I want you to be in the place where things weren’t good and see that it gets better.”

Chloé considered that and nodded. “Okay, I think I understand.”

When they arrived, Chloé noticed a familiar face behind the counter. With a tight feeling in her chest she recognized the long brown hair and oversized earrings of the barista from last month. A few weeks ago, Chloé would have pretended to have forgotten her. Things were easier that way. Push people away. Rebuke anyone who annoyed her. Create a space she would feel safe inhabiting whether it ended up creating an akuma or not because Ladybug would be there to save the day.

She felt sick to her stomach thinking about how often she had put Marinette in danger because of own cowardice.

No more.

Chloé strode towards the counter, knowing what she had to do. 

She heard Marinette whisper under her breath, berating herself for making a mistake by not considering this possibility. Chloé intended to prove that Marinette was right earlier. This wasn’t a mistake. It was an opportunity.

She set her face to what she hoped was a cool, neutral expression. Whenever she did this, Marinette would joke that Chloé looked like she was about to sentence someone to prison, but it was the best she could do. If she looked too cheerful, people thought she was up to something. Of course, she was aware she deserved that reputation, but it was counterproductive.

The barista paled as she approached.

“Good afternoon,” the barista opened, eyes flitting to the side as if she were about to flee. “How may I help you today, Miss?”

Chloé placed an order for herself and Marinette quickly, and then moved to the hard part.

As the barista turned away to prepare their sandwiches, Chloé spoke. 

“I need to say something, and I’m not used to doing this,” she said. “So please hear me out.” 

The woman froze, her hand still reaching for the panini press. She didn’t turn to face Chloé, but honestly that made this easier. 

Chloé pressed on. “You didn’t deserve to be made to feel like you don’t matter… like you’re worthless, and I… apologize.”

Marinette stood by Chloé’s side, very quiet and eyes focused on Chloé. 

The woman finally turned. “I… thank you,” she said. “I know I screwed up your order, and you had every right to be upset.” She had a hesitant smile. 

“I don’t think ‘upset’ covers how badly I acted,” Chloé stated regretfully.

“It doesn’t excuse me trying to kill you,” the barista countered. “I know I was possessed and the police and ladybug said I wasn’t in control of myself, but… I know it’s no excuse but,” the barista continued, walking back to the counter and lowering her voice. She placed her hands flat on the counter and looked down, unable to face Chloé. “I had an awful day. My boyfriend broke up with me the night before and I just couldn’t—”

Chloé silenced her by putting her hand on the barista’s in a comforting gesture. She had learned this worked for her when Marinette did it. Chloé hoped it was a universal gesture. She had little experience with this kind of thing.

“I’ve been through what happened to you myself,” Chloé said softly. “I understand how hard it is to try to think back on something where you were the worst version of yourself, and to top it off, you only have vague, hazy memories of the… possession.

“In the end, you don’t even have the comfort of knowing exactly what you did, so you can’t know for sure you didn’t hurt anyone.”

Chloé had caused just that to happen to too many people, including this woman. She was responsible for so much pain and suffering, opening people up to Hawk Moth’s manipulation. She didn’t deserve this woman’s forgiveness, but she wanted to try to give her some peace of mind if she could.

“You didn’t deserve to have to deal with me,” Chloé continued, quietly. “I don’t think anyone does, but I’m especially sorry you had to deal with me when you were having such a hard day already.”

Marinette put her hand in the small of Chloé’s back and rubbed a small circle. Chloé wasn’t sure why Marinette thought she needed comfort, but she found it soothing nonetheless.

The barista sniffed and looked up and nodded. “Thank you, Miss.”

“One more thing,” Chloé said, glad the apology had gone well. “I want to purchase a third latte with the milk over-steamed.”

At the barista’s raised eyebrows, Chloé continued.

“My friend here thinks that no one can really tell the difference,” she explained.

Marinette huffed, and Chloé chuckled at that. She continued to look at the barista because when Marinette decided to be mildly indignant, Chloé found her so overwhelmingly adorable that she worried her insides might melt.

The edges of the barista’s mouth turned up in an almost-smile. “Of course, and it’s on the house.”

Chloé raised her chin. “I’m not making you waste coffee like that, and no arguments. I’m rich. I can afford it.”

The barista nodded and went to prepare their meal.

Marinette and Chloé found a table in a quiet corner, away from the rest of the patrons.

Marinette looked ready to explode from holding in whatever it was she wanted to say. Finally, Chloé gave in with a sigh, telling her, “Go on and say it, Marinette.”

“I think that was a really nice thing you did,” she said.

Chloé scoffed. “I’m glad you approve.”

Marinette sighed and blushed slightly. “I know you hate when people are condescending—”

“I do,” Chloé interjected.

“But,” Marinette continued as if Chloé hadn’t spoken. The brunette visibly became more excited as she spoke. “You didn’t have to do that and you did and it was really wonderful.”

Marinette was gushing. Chloé wasn’t sure quite what to do with that, so she found herself telling the truth.

“I don’t want to be that person I was any longer, Marinette,” Chloé responded. “I didn’t like that version of me very much, but I didn’t know how to stop being that way.”

“What changed?”

“You,” Chloé said simply, unable to bring herself to lie or come up with some rationalization. “You believe in me. I want to at least **try** to be the me you believe I can be.”

Marinette’s grin was blinding and beautiful. “I believe in you because you let me see the real you.”

Chloé shrugged. She had no idea how to respond to this wave of praise. It was both so cheesy it belonged on a greeting card and so sincere when Marinette said it that Chloé felt completely disarmed.

Unfortunately, the intoxicating pride Chloé felt at Marinette’s belief in her made it hard to avoid ill-advised moments of honesty. “It worries me sometimes,” Chloé said. “That you believe in me.”

“I don’t understand,” Marinette replied, brow furrowed with concern.

“I want you to approve of me,” Chloé explained. “I can admit that. You’re my friend, and I value your opinion. Am I a good person if I’m doing good things because I want my friend’s approval? I honestly don’t know.”

“I think…” Marinette began. “I think the fact you worry about that means you want to do good for the right reasons and not only to get approval. I can’t imagine that means anything except you **are** a good person.”

The praise was starting to make Chloé feel uncomfortable. She nodded in response to Marinette’s answer to indicate she could accept that.

“Thank you,” she said.

Marinette’s face took on a serious, concerned look. “Chloé,” she said hesitantly. “Can we talk about earlier?”

Chloé knew this was unavoidable. “What do you want to know?”

“What I asked before. Is this too much for you?”

The blonde visibly deflated. “I don’t know. I want to say it isn’t, but I don’t want to lie to you, either.”

Marinette covered Chloé’s hand that had begun that stupid tapping routine on the table. Chloé truly hated that she did that without realizing every time she was stressed. It was getting worse, just like when she was little and her parents had sent her to doctor after doctor.

“Is there anything I can do to help make it easier?” Marinette asked. 

Chloé looked deeply into the brunette’s deep blue eyes. She could so easily lose herself in those eyes. 

“No,” Chloé answered. “You already do so much. Asking you to do more would be inexcusable.”

“Not for a friend, Chloé,” Marinette countered with a gentle smile.

“I wish I could do more for **you** , Marinette,” Chloé said, deciding that she should continue to be honest about this. “All I do is sit there and hope that you’re okay, and then maybe I can give Tikki some cookies and hope that whatever I put in the bag for you isn’t necessary because if it is, then something has went horribly wrong.” She stopped and groaned in frustration. “My major contribution is making up an excuse for why you went missing.”

Marinette considered Chloé’s words quietly. She didn’t respond for almost a minute. “I think… I think you don’t understand just how much of a relief it is to have someone who knows who I really am and is still in my corner. Anyone else would fight with me all the time trying to stop me, but you get it, Chloé. You get how important this is for me, and you support me.

“I don’t even know how to say how much that means to me… how much you mean to me,” Marinette finished.

Chloé and Marinette were so focused on each other, they didn’t realize the barista had approached until she cleared her throat. 

“So sorry for interrupting,” the barista said, her cheeks flushed. “Let me just sit these down,” she continued, placing the sandwiches and lattes on the table. “And you can pretend I was never here.”

Somehow, in the middle of the conversation, the two girls had taken both of each other’s hands in their own. It must have appeared very intimate. The two girls pulled their hands apart, and Chloé felt a twinge of disappointment. Marinette was blushing, and Chloé could only hope that she wasn’t. It was fine for someone like Marinette who was comfortable with feelings, but Chloé disliked displaying that kind of thing for the world to see. 

The barista gave Chloé a… well, what Chloé could only call a knowing wink and made her retreat. 

Chloé wondered if she could just pass out now please thank you very much and never wake up again.

Her panic was interrupted as Marinette laughed nervously and ran her hand through her beautiful dark hair. Chloé was so happy that Marinette let her comb it and arrange it when they had makeovers while studying at Chloé’s place.

And that was a dangerous line of thinking, Chloé decided. So she stopped thinking about running her fingers through Marinette’s soft, jet black hair. Yes. Totally not thinking about that.

“Funny, she thinks we’re a couple,” Chloé said, instantly regretting how squeaky her voice sounded. “What a mistake to make, right?”

Marinette nodded and agreed. “Yes,” she said, her own voice squeaky, too. “I mean friends hold hands, too, right?”

“Absolutely!” Chloé said enthusiastically. “Friendly handholding is definitely a thing.”

The next few minutes consisted of the two avoiding each other’s gaze while fiddling with sandwiches and coffee and napkins and anything else. Finally, it was too much for Chloé.

“Speaking of other types of handholding,” Chloé said desperately. “How are you progressing with Adrien?”

“Oh, um…” Marinette said, her blush intensifying. “Well… I’m still working on that whole coherent sentence thing when I try to talk to him.”

In a way, Chloé was thankful that Marinette kept having mini-meltdowns around Adrien. It meant that the girl was definitely in love and Chloé could focus on that instead of… other things.

Chloé placed her elbows on the table and tented her hands, then leaned forward and rested her chin on them, looking at Marinette with heavy-lidded eyes and her best smirk—and Chloé had perfected the art of the smirk. 

“If you don’t act soon,” Chloé said in a vaguely threatening manner. “I may take matters into my own hands.”

Marinette blanched. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Chloé.”

“Hmm…” Chloé responded, letting Marinette dwell on whether she wanted to make her move after years of false starts or whether she would face whatever Chloé would cook up.

Truthfully, Chloé didn’t have a plan. She figured Marinette would finally do what she should have done years ago, or Adrien would take the hint and finally ask Marinette out, but if a little nudge via the possibility of Chloé interfering helped then all the better.

She leaned back in her seat, gave Marinette a mysterious, knowing smile, and took a sip of her latte. It was excellent.

“Oh,” Chloé said. “This reminds me…” 

She eyed the over-steamed third latte. 

Marinette scoffed, but her relief that Chloé had changed the subject was obvious on her face. “It can’t be that bad, Chloé.”

“Take a sip of your good latte,” Chloé commanded.

Marinette raised her eyebrow at the tone, but complied and took a small drink. Chloé felt a tiny thrill bossing Marinette around, but had the wisdom not to voice her satisfaction about Marinette’s willingness to allow it.

“Now,” Chloé continued. “Take a sip of this one.” She nudged the over-steamed latte towards Marinette.

The brunette sighed in her best put-upon fashion, and took a sip. She immediately grimaced. “Ugh. It tastes like a mouthful of plastic! Okay. Never arguing about coffee with you again.”

Marinette pushed the bad latte away and took a long drink of her correctly-made latte. “Stop looking smug,” she said crossly after she set her mug down.

Chloé laughed. “Fine. I’ll think of a proper way for you to do penance later tonight.”

Marinette went as red as Tikki, and Chloé wondered why she was unable to control her flirting with Marinette.

“So…” Chloé said with her own nervous laugh. “Exploding footballs?”

Marinette grimaced and took the distraction Chloé offered. “Don’t remind me.”

From there, the two had a relaxed, pleasant conversation over lunch (assuming one could do so while talking about insane monsters), and true to her word, Ladybug got them both back to school with moments to spare before Biology lab.

As they walked down the hall, Marinette spoke under her breath. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

Chloé responded just as quietly. “No, I don’t think so.”

Marinette nodded. “Good. I want to take you somewhere.”

“That’s mysterious.”

“You’ll see,” Marinette said and duplicated the knowing wink the barista had given them.

Chloé sighed once Marinette turned her attention to the class they were entering. The brunette was upping her game. Chloé wasn’t sure how she would deal with that.

She was even less sure of things when Marinette arrived at her hotel suite the next day with a large duffel bag in tow.

“That’s not ominous at all,” Chloé said, eyeing the bag as Marinette stood outside her door.

“May I come in, Chloé?” Marinette replied sarcastically.

Chloé waved her in and followed. She was fairly certain that Marinette wasn’t about to introduce her to some darker hobby.

And if she was, that could be negotiable, too.

Marinette slung the bag onto Chloé’s bed and unzipped it. She began pulling out… army fatigues?

“Um…” Chloé said, impressed with her own snappy commentary.

Marinette smiled at her. “You’ll see.”

Chloé scoffed. “Okay, so you’re into roleplay? The Wounded Soldier and the Superhero?”

Marinette stopped pulling items out of the bag and turned bright red. She blushed so easily, Chloé couldn’t help herself.

“Chloé, get your mind out of the gutter!”

Chloé sat on the bed and started examining the fatigues. “Who am I to judge your kink, Marinette?”

The brunette rubbed her temples. “Gah, you’re going to give me a headache.” She paused and it was like a light went off over her head. “Wait… when you cosplayed as Ladybug…”

It was Chloé’s turn to squawk in embarrassment. “No! That was… No!”

Marinette collapsed onto the bed laughing and Chloé tried to recover her breath.

“I was…” Chloé tried to explain as she continued to look at the outfit Marinette had brought. “It’s that I wanted to feel what it was like to be a hero even if it was just pretend.”

Chloé cast her eyes downward, and both girls paused for a moment until Marinette broke the silence by suddenly reaching out and tickling Chloé’s side.

“Agh! Stop that, Marinette!” Chloé yelled, giggling.

“If you’ll stop moping,” Marinette countered.

“Okay! Okay!” Chloé shouted and fell back on the bed laughing beside Marinette. Once she could breathe again, she asked, “What’s up with the uniform?”

“Well, I was thinking about our trip back to school from the cafe yesterday.”

Chloé nodded and reclined on one arm, giving her full attention to Marinette’s explanation.

“And I got to thinking,” Marinette continued. “We kept having to duck into shadows because if people saw us and recognized you, it could lead Hawk Moth to you.” Her voice grew quiet. “I can’t handle even thinking about that, Chloé, so I got this from a costume store.”

“It’s a disguise for me?”

Marinette nodded. “And once you put it on, I want to take you to the Eiffel Tower. I want you to see the city the way I do as Ladybug. It’s like yesterday but the opposite. The café was our low point, and now it’s a nice place we can visit. Today, I want you to see how worth it this is, and you’ll see how much I appreciate what you do for me.”

A lock of hair had fallen over Marinette’s face during the tickle fight. Instinctively, Chloé very delicately brushed it back into place.

Marinette grew very still and Chloé could hear her breath hitch.

“I would love that, Marinette,” she answered solemnly.

They looked into each other’s eyes as they lay there, unable to break away from the gravity of the other’s gaze. Chloé understood she had to stop… she had to not make a fool of herself for Marinette’s sake, and she couldn’t betray Adrien, her childhood friend, by pursuing something that could never be and that she didn’t deserve in the first place.

Chloé forced herself into action. She cleared her throat, sat up, and scooped up the clothes. Marinette wordlessly handed her the boots that were still in the bag. Chloé made her way to the bathroom, confident the clothes would fit. Marinette had a good eye for Chloé’s size, and Chloé tried very much not to think about Marinette’s familiarity with her body. 

Chloé changed quickly. Marinette had even picked up a balaclava for her.

She stepped out into the bedroom and Marinette smiled.

“I look like a bank robber, Marinette, and these clothes are very baggy,” Chloé complained.

The brunette chuckled. “I know, Miss Grump. That way they can’t tell if you’re a man or a woman even with your ridiculous curves.”

Marinette closed her eyes in embarrassment at her words and Chloé was suddenly very glad she was wearing a mask.

“Okay,” Chloé said a bit louder than she intended. Lowering her voice, she continued. “So Eiffel Tower, right?”

Marinette nodded and had Tikki transform her.

There were two things Chloé would never get used to. The first was Marinette’s transformation. The thrill of seeing that moment where magic transformed her friend into Ladybug would never fade. The second was when she had the opportunity to fly through the skies in Marinette’s arms as she used her yoyo to propel them over the streets of Paris.

She had never felt freer. No matter how this turned out in the end, she would always be thankful for those two things.

Chloé laughed, feeling pure delight as Marinette sat them down in the scaffolding of the tower. The view was gorgeous.

Marinette smiled at her and said, “Isn’t it great?”

Chloé nodded. She was smiling as well, but the mask prevented the other girl from seeing. “It’s so amazing. I don’t have words to describe it.”

“When I come up here, everything seems to make more sense,” Marinette said taking a seat, legs dangling over the edge.

Chloé started to take a seat as well, but something in the distance caught her attention. 

“Marinette,” she said. “Is that smoke?”

The brunette immediately turned to see what Chloé was looking at. “I think it is,” she said, and then looked at Chloé with concern.

“I’ll be fine,” Chloé assured her friend. “Go be the best Ladybug you can be. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Marinette nodded and swung away. 

Chloé watched her disappear into the distance, hoping she would be safe. Once she could no longer see Marinette, she looked out over the city, watching the sun set on the horizon.

Chloé had not watched a sunset in a long time… not since Angelique had left so many years ago. Part of her wished she could forget Angelique. The girl was never coming back, but it wasn’t as if Chloé had a right to judge. She hadn’t fought for Angelique like she should have.

Her shoulders sagged and she thought about sitting down to wait for Marinette to return.

Suddenly, a voice came from the shadows. “Feeling sad that my lady has left you here on your own while she investigates?”

Startled, Chloé turned towards the voice but she was unused to these bulky boots. She lost her balance, and for a terrifying moment, she thought she might fall to her death, but something caught her.

It was Chat Noir’s staff.

Once Chloé recovered her balance, Chat retracted his staff. 

He gave her a hard, appraising look and then turned to peer into the distance in the direction Marinette had went. 

“She’ll be back soon enough. It was just a smoke grenade on a timer.”

Chat had set a smoke grenade off? Chloé knew better than to speak. As the mayor’s daughter, she was fairly well known. Chat might recognize her and use her to track down Marinette’s identity. She settled on quietly watching Chat and letting him say his piece.

“Cat got your tongue?” Chat smirked. There was a cruel twist to his mouth that gave him an air of danger he didn’t usually possess. Most of the time, he was the carefree one. He was the showman.

When Chloé didn’t answer, he continued. “What’s your game with my lady?”

Despite her annoyance at Chat calling Marinette his lady, because she most certainly wasn’t, all Chloé did was hold her hands up, hoping Chat would understand the gesture to mean that she had no ill motives.

“I could have let you fall, you know?” he said. His temper seemed to be rising as Chloé stayed silent. “But that’s not the kind of hero I am. How about we have a conversation instead?”

Chloé shook her head, and Chat’s eyes narrowed. He closed the distance and Chloé backed up to a girder. He came within a few inches, and Chloé prayed the shadows would disguise her well enough.

“I’m going to warn you,” Chat continued. “My bugaboo is a trusting girl. She’s sweet and wonderful and someone might try to take advantage of her.”

The irony of Chat using many of the same words that Chloé’s father had used the night of the party to warn her of Marinette’s bad intentions was not lost on Chloé.

Chat grabbed Chloé’s shirt and pulled her close. “Then you just appear suddenly and ‘discover’ my lady’s identity? I think you’re up to something, and when you make your move…” 

He paused to shove her back against the girder. “You’ll wish I **had** let you fall.

“Talk to me. Convince me you have her best interest at heart.”

He sounded as if he wanted to believe that Chloé did, but she couldn’t risk speaking to him. One word and he might know who she was.

She could tell that her silence was antagonizing the black-clad hero. She imagined that in his place, she would be just as hostile to any potential threat to Marinette.

“You’re not worthy of her,” he continued, his words taking on a bitter, jealous twist. “I don’t know who you are, but don’t worry. I won’t take off your stupid little mask. If I do, you might just use that to fool my lady into thinking **I’m** the bad guy.”

He was trying to provoke her. It was an old game, and she appreciated on a tactical level that Chat was pushing to see if Chloé would take the bait. It wouldn’t work, though. Chloé was a master at this particular gambit. Unfortunately, the longer she held out, the angrier he would become. It was a dangerous game to play with someone as powerful as Chat Noir, but she wouldn’t betray Marinette.

Chat growled, losing his temper finally.

“Just remember,” he said, eyes flashing. “I’m onto you, and you won’t ever take advantage of my lady. She and I are partners for a reason.”

He turned casually and began to walk away. “Whoever you are, you can’t fight destiny. I’m her true partner. We’re linked by magic.”

He stopped and turned his head, warning clear in his eyes. “You won’t even speak up for her. You aren’t ever going to be good enough for her if you’re too afraid to stand up to an enemy.”

He turned as if he were about to leap from the tower and be on his way, but stopped. For several seconds he was as still as stone, but then his shoulders slumped.

He turned his head and said, “I love her, you know?” His voice was ragged and pain evident in his features.

Chloé nodded. For some reason she couldn’t identify—maybe it was the pure honesty from Chat, a person who prided himself on his flamboyant devil-may-care attitude—Chloé wanted to comfort him. It made no sense. Chloé was not a comforting person. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should console him as if he was someone precious to her.

“I know,” Chat continued. “She doesn’t love me. There’s another boy—maybe even you—I’m not sure, but… but it doesn’t matter.”

He walked back towards Chloé and held out his hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Chat Noir. If Ladybug trusts you, then…” he trailed off with a sigh. “I don’t know. I’ll have to trust you, too, I guess.”

Chloé took his hand and shook it.

They stood there awkwardly staring at each other until Chat spoke again.

“You’ll take care of her? Protect her?” he asked.

Chloé nodded again. She wanted to tell him she would lay her life down for Marinette, but she couldn’t risk speaking, not even if she tried to disguise her voice. The risk was too great.

“That’s all I can ask,” he said as he turned away again. “I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I’m sorry.”

Chloé reached out and clapped his shoulder, squeezing. She hoped Chat understood that she was trying to show she felt she would have done the same.

“I’m usually a lot better at this,” Chat said with a wistful smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Chloé shrugged and pointed towards where Marinette had went. 

Chat looked confused. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

This was ridiculous. She would need to carry pen and paper next time in case she had to talk to anyone disguised this way. She noticed there was dust on the girders and used her finger to write out what she hoped was a legible enough message in the grime: **you want to protect her.**

Chat squinted in the dim light, but he seemed able to decipher it. “You get it then?”

Chloé gave him a thumbs up. Then she pointed at herself and then the word “protect” she had scrawled out.

Chat nodded. “Well, maybe between the two of us we can keep her safe,” he said, smiling. “Again… I’m sorry about—”

Chloé waved him off. She didn’t need his apology.

“Alright, thanks. If you need my help, you can message me at that journalist girl’s Ladyblog. I’m… er… ladynoirfan614.”

Chloé actually snorted before she could stop herself.

Chat gave her a sour look, and she held her hands up.

“Okay, yeah, I know. Pathetic, right?” he grumbled.

She shook her head. She had done sillier things in her life.

“Well, anyway message me if you need anything,” he said. “And… just realize how lucky you are, okay?”

With those words, he lept into the lengthening shadows and disappeared.

Chloé, trembling from the tension of a confrontation at far too great a height for her liking, sat down and waited for Marinette to return. She hasn’t been afraid of Chat Noir even when he was trying to be threatening. He was a hero, through and through. He wouldn’t have let her fall, and he wouldn’t have pushed her. He was afraid because some unknown person presented a potential threat to the woman he loved. Chloé knew that in his place, she would have done the same thing.

Chat had been wrong when he accused her having some sort of devious plan, but he had been right when he doubted her. Chloé would never be good enough for Marinette.

Not worthy. Too afraid. Never good enough. Those words cycled through her head on a loop.

It wasn’t long before Marinette returned, and from the look on her face, she was able to sense Chloé’s sadness. Perhaps, Chloé thought, it was her body language. Whatever the case, Marinette approached gently and sat beside her.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Marinette asked.

“Can you take me home?” she asked, quietly. She couldn’t risk that Chat still lurking within earshot.

Marinette nodded. “It was some kid’s prank. Just a smoke bomb,” she paused. “I’m sorry I left you alone, Chl—”

Chloé put two fingers to Marinette’s lips to stop the hero from saying her name. She leaned in close, telling herself it was in case Chat was somehow listening, but she knew deep down that she needed the strength she always saw in Marinette’s eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ladybug,” Chloé said. “But if we’re going to use disguises, we shouldn’t use names.”

Marinette nodded and helped Chloé to her feet. Then she swung them back to Chloé’s suite. Both girls were silent. Not even the wind and the freedom of swinging through the city helped Chloé.

Once inside, Marinette pulled the blinds and then transformed. Chloé lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Marinette turned to her kwami. “Would you mind if we had some privacy, Tikki?”

The little creature looked at Chloé like she wanted to try to comfort her, but she nodded and climbed into Marinette’s bag. The brunette took the bag to the next room and returned after shutting the door.

She sat beside Chloé and the blonde could see the worry plain on her face.

“Talk to me, Chloé,” Marinette pleaded. “I want to help.”

Chloé blinked back tears. This was the second time she had almost cried today. It was disgraceful.

“Chloé, I’m begging you. Let me help, please?” Marinette asked, voice faltering.

Chloé nodded. She wasn’t going to tell Marinette what Chat had done. He was only trying to protect Ladybug, and how could Chloé fault him for that? He wasn’t really what was upsetting Chloé anyway. Marinette deserved to know the truth. 

“There was a girl I knew,” she said but paused to clear her throat. She sounded raw. Clearing her throat didn’t help. “Her name was Angelique. Her favorite thing in the world was the sunset, and we used to watch them together all the time.”

Marinette laid down on her side next to Chloé and quietly listened.

“She was… so delicate and dainty,” Chloé continued. “Her hair was like a halo… even blonder than mine. Almost white and so… I think silk would be jealous of that hair.

“Angelique was a fairy princess come to life. She was my princess.”

Chloé paused, gathering her thoughts. “Her father was a lawyer who worked for my papa. That was how we met. We made friends so easily, and she and I were inseparable. I even begged to go to the public school she attended before I came to Collège Françoise Dupont where you and I met.

“Papa gave in finally. Maman wasn’t happy, but he thought it would look good to the voters. Maman was… religious. More and more so as I got older and she got sicker. She thought I would be corrupted by public school, and she was worried there would be no one to protect me once she was gone. It seems worse when I say it aloud, but you have to understand, Marinette, that she loved me and only wanted to keep me safe.”

Chloé sighed. This was the worst part. “I was so happy. Everything in my life was perfect. I had Maman and Papa and Angelique. 

“A few months before I transferred to Collège Françoise Dupont, Angelique and I were playing with dolls. She loved playing with dolls, and Papa had bought me so many. Angelique wanted the prince to marry the princess, and I was upset. I wanted the daring lady knight to marry the princess. She insisted that ladies couldn’t marry ladies, and we argued.

“I remember saying that of course they could get married. She said they couldn’t because ladies couldn’t kiss ladies.

“So I kissed her to prove she was wrong, and because the thought of kissing her made me feel… happy… thrilled.”

Chloé let out a shuddering breath and Marinette took her hand and squeezed. “It was innocent, really. I was ten. I didn’t truly know how kissing worked—what it meant. I thought touching lips together was all a kiss was. Silly, right?”

She continued, not giving Marinette time to answer. “And I believed it meant you were married because Maman and Papa were married and I saw them kiss. That was the only thing in the world I really wanted—to marry Angelique and kiss her.

“I told her that and she cried because she didn’t want to be married yet.

“When our parents found out, Angelique’s father thought it was just children being children and I think Papa agreed, but Maman…

“Maman, as I said, was a religious woman. She was sick already and getting worse… it was cancer, and the treatments weren’t working. All they did was make her feel weaker. She wouldn’t hear a word about dropping the matter. She said she had to protect me now because she couldn’t trust Papa to protect me later.

“She made things… difficult. I don’t think she wanted to drive Angelique’s family away, but she forbade me from seeing Angelique and I’ve picked up bits and pieces over the years from what Papa has said that she was openly hostile to Angelique’s family, and I know she blamed herself for my… quirks.

“There was one time and I was playing hide and seek with the maids. The only friend I was allowed after Angelique was Adrien. Maman didn’t trust me with girls and she thought it was inappropriate if I played with boys instead. When he couldn’t come over, I played with the maids. Anyway, I was hiding in Maman’s closet and she came in arguing with Papa. She was worried for my soul. She said there was something wrong inside me, and the cancer and I must be punishments from God for her sinful youth.

“I never told Maman or Papa that I heard.”

Chloé looked over to Marinette. The brunette’s mouth was a hard line and her eyes flashed. This was what Chloé was afraid of… that she would blame Maman for Chloé disappointing her.

“Maman never said anything like that to me. She was always careful to tell me how much she loved me and worried for me.

“But yes, she was so angry. I think she could see the end coming and she needed something to focus all that anger on. She picked Angelique’s family. It wasn’t long before Angelique’s father had a new job in a new city. They moved away, and I never saw her again. I was forbidden to contact her.

“It seems so simple when I say it that way.”

Chloé let out a shuddering sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if Angelique thinks about me… and I wish I could stop thinking about her. I think that makes me awful.”

Chloé glanced over to Marinette. She was a mix of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry,” Chloé said. “Do you want me to stop?”

Marinette spoke quietly. “If you want to stop, it’s okay, but you’re not awful, Chloé. I don’t think anyone would want to think about something so painful.”

Chloé focused on the ceiling again. It was easier. She trusted Marinette. She wasn’t sure she should burden her with this, but if Chloé could stand anyone knowing, it was Marinette.

“I think my biggest regret is I did nothing to stop it. I should have done something. Found some way to convince Maman that I could be a good girl for her without giving up Angelique.”

Marinette interrupted. “Chloé, you were ten years old. What could you have done?”

Chloé shrugged, her eyes not leaving the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. It’s how I feel.

“Anyway by that time, Maman was very sick,” Chloé continued before Marinette could argue. “She called me into her room while Papa was out on business and asked if I thought about other girls like I did Angelique. I did, and I told her so. Boys were loud and icky and usually smelly. Of course, Adrien was an exception. He wasn’t icky or smelly, but he and I thought of each other like siblings. I knew I didn’t like him the way Maman wanted me to. I think she very much wanted me to marry Adrien someday. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had played along… if everything would have been better.

“But I didn’t. I liked girls. Where boys were loud and mean, girls were pretty and graceful and… I think I’ve always been drawn to the feminine.”

Chloé fell silent for a moment just listening to Marinette breathing. “By the end of the conversation, Maman knew better than I did that I was attracted to other girls. 

“I told her that someday I would marry Angelique. She told me that she didn’t think that Angelique felt that way about me, but one day I would find someone who loved me. I don’t think she believed what she was saying. She was furious and trying to hide it. I could tell. 

“After that… I watched day by day as she got sicker and became more and more worried about what would become of me.

“I made her a promise. Just days before she died, I spent a few minutes alone with her. There was nothing the doctors could do. There was nothing anyone could do.

“So we sat together and I made her a promise. I told Maman I would never dishonor her. It didn’t matter if I liked girls. I would be the good girl she wanted. I would hide that part of me. I would marry Adrien, not Angelique, like she wanted and we would be happy and she would be happy if she would just live.

“She couldn’t speak at that point. She was too weak, but… she seemed so happy that I was going to do that for her. It didn’t save her, though. Maman died. I had lost Angelique. I had lost Maman.

“That’s when… That’s when I decided that even though Maman had died, I would keep my promise to her. I would never dishonor her. I had a plan, and it worked. I would be as mean as possible to everyone around me except Adrien. I would keep everyone away. No one would know the truth about me, and I would protect Maman and Papa.

“Maybe if Maman’s God was real, she would see. She would see that I loved her. 

“After she died, the priest gave me a letter from her. Maman told me how proud she was to be my mother and how wonderful I was… that no matter what she was proud of me no matter who I loved, and I should never think otherwise. That’s how I knew I was doing the right thing. She loved me so much that she would sacrifice her beliefs to make me happy. How could I not love her enough to honor her?”

Marinette was gripping her hand so tightly that the circulation was cut off. Chloé didn’t say anything about that. She enjoyed the contact. It kept her focused. She recalled in an offhand way that one of her many doctors as a child had labeled it “stimming” which she had thought was a weird name.

Anyway, it didn’t matter what it was called. The pressure of Marinette’s grip allowed her to center herself and remember who was important: Marinette.

“I’m sorry,” Chloé said. “I shouldn’t burden you like this.”

Marinette didn’t say anything, but she moved to Chloé’s side and embraced her.

“I still have the letter,” Chloé whispered. “I can’t throw it away. It’s all I have left of her.”

Marinette continued to hold Chloé tight. After a few minutes, she looked over at the brunette. Chloé had never seen Marinette so angry, not even after all the things Chloé had done to her over the years.

“There is **nothing** wrong inside you. Do you understand me?” she asked, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

She spoke with such fierceness that Chloé almost told her in that moment that she loved her, but she was able to stop herself.

She settled for letting Marinette hold her, finding what comfort she could in their friendship. Marinette would leave eventually. Nothing could last forever, but it wasn’t going to end like it had with Angelique or Maman. When Marinette left, she would be happy. Chloé would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda in love with this chapter. If there's one chapter so far where I think the song choice is invaluable, it's this one.
> 
> I think sometimes it's not clear just how much I love Adrien and love reading Adrien-focused stories. He's going to start featuring more and more as this series progresses (Remember everyone, we're only seven chapters into Act I.) I have every intention of giving him a strong story arc and a happy ending.
> 
> As for our two protagonists, the dreaded L-word has now been introduced! I hope you have had as much fun reading this chapter as I've had writing it!
> 
> Next up... we get to that mature tag. Oh, and it's time for Chloe to meet the parents. Nothing big.
> 
> I can't foresee any issues with Chapter 8 going up Friday. Chapter 9 is giving me some fits, but I think I'll have it worked out and rewritten in the next couple days.


	8. The Acceptance of Not Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maturity, one discovers, has everything to do with the acceptance of “not knowing.”
> 
> \- _Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves_ (2000)
> 
> Song Choice: “Boom” by Anjulie

Marinette was delighted to be back at the small countryside cottage where her family had vacationed several years ago. Her parents had debated at the time whether they should go to the country or to the beach, but Papa had wanted a quiet two weeks. They finally decided on renting a place out in the country. Marinette loved it, and she had longed to return ever since. Now she finally had come back, and it was every bit as wonderful as she remembered.

When she had been here the first time, she spent most of her days roaming and exploring the paths in and around the farmland and the houses. The well-worn path on which she walked, with its row of trees providing shade from the afternoon sun, was exactly as she remembered. She recalled a small stream that ran under an old stone bridge just about half a kilometer to the west, and to the north lived a kindly, older couple with a small dog that loved to play fetch with Marinette. 

She was thrilled to be back here. The late afternoon sun shone brightly filling Marinette with cheeriness and contentment. The day was warm, but not oppressively hot. It was the kind of warmth that comforted her and made her feel secure and safe… the perfect day for a walk. It was so perfect she found herself in no particular hurry as she returned from a pleasant trip to the market in the nearby village.

She held Chloé’s hand as they made their way back to the farmhouse. It was just now coming into view as they rounded a small curve in the path. It wasn’t too far now. They would arrive in the next few minutes. Already, she could see the porch where Adrian sat on the railing awaiting their arrival. He smiled and waved when they came into sight.

“Do you want to go ahead?” Chloé asked. Her voice was soothing. 

Marinette looked to her traveling companion. Chloé’s smile was sage and gentle in the golden, late afternoon light, as if she possessed untold wisdom and would never steer Marinette wrong. Everything about Chloé had instantly become more beautiful now that she allowed herself to be the person Marinette knew she could be instead of acting like a spoiled terror. 

“No,” Marinette said, basking in Chloé’s warmth. There was no need to hurry. “We’ll get there soon enough.” 

“Of course we will,” Chloé responded as they lazily rocked in the porch swing while enjoying a lemonade. The metal links joining the swing to the ceiling creaked as they swung forward and backward in a sedate rhythm.

Adrien still sat on the porch railing, silent and inviting. A small black cat curled by his feet which barely reached the floor from where he sat. The sun sparkled in his hair giving him an otherworldly, distant beauty.

“Go sit beside Adrien, Marinette,” Chloé encouraged.

Marinette considered it. She knew she was supposed to go to Adrien. She knew that part of her desperately wanted to go to Adrien, but that meant she had to leave Chloé’s side, and something about joining Adrien felt irrevocable.

“Come with me,” Marinette suggested to Chloé.

If anything, Chloé’s smile took on an even gentler aspect. Marinette could no longer tell if the warmth came from the sun or from Chloé, but it didn’t matter really.

“I shouldn’t,” Chloé said with no hint of remorse. “He’s there, waiting for you.”

“But I don’t want to let go of you,” Marinette said, realizing at that instant she had been holding onto Chloé’s hand for the entire day and the thought of letting go meant something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was cold… uncertain… unsettling.

“You’ll be okay. Look,” the blonde said, nodding towards Adrien.

He held out his hand to Marinette, eager for her to take it, and his smile foretold love and safety.

“He loves you, Marinette,” Chloé continued. “Go to him.”

The black cat opened a single eye, lazily and smiled. It wasn’t the smug look one would associate with a smiling cat, but playful and mercurial.

“I’m not sure,” Marinette responded. “You’re warm. Please stay with me.”

Chloé laughed, standing beside Marinette. Both girls were ankle-deep in the little stream that Marinette remembered. In years past, Chloé’s laugh was cruel and haughty, but that wasn’t her real laugh. Now it sounded more like the tinkling of chimes in the wind, and it belonged to Marinette alone. The two girls still held hands as they danced and kicked in the water, splashing the black cat that was swimming along on its back. Adrien, quiet and golden and glorious, sat in the grass beside the stream enjoying the day, hand outstretched, waiting for Marinette.

The water wasn’t cold like a running stream should be, but that was of little consequence, really. Marinette knew that as long as she held Chloé’s hand, she would never be cold.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to, Marinette,” Chloé said, but now there was just a hint of sadness in her voice and eyes. “I’ll always be waiting, but don’t you want to go to Adrien?”

The cat looked up and laughed with Chat Noir’s voice. “If you like, my lady, you can swim with me instead.” 

Marinette shook her head at the silly cat, confused as to why it sounded like Adrien. 

“No,” she told the cat. “You’re a wonderful friend and I love the walks we go on, but you’re not Adrien. Or is it that you’re not Chloé?”

Was there a reason to separate the two? Marinette couldn’t decide, and again concluded that it didn’t matter. Chloé was warm like the sun, but so was Adrien. How could she choose?

Contented, Marinette sighed while she lay on the bed in her room in the farmhouse, her fingers still entwined with Chloé’s who lay beside her—welcoming and soft and warm. This was as open as Marinette had ever seen Chloé. For once, her friend was comfortable enough that there were no hard edges and cutting comments. This Chloé… her Chloé… possessed a delicate gentleness and vulnerability… all solely for Marinette.

This was what Marinette wanted. Always and forever. 

She looked around the room. The black cat sunned itself on the window ledge while it lazily batted at a sunflower drooping in a vase. Adrien sat at the foot of the bed. Marinette knew without asking that if she wanted, he would take Chloé’s place and she would still feel warm and cozy.

Chloé looked at her, love and joy radiating from her like light, illuminating the room. “Yes, that’s right, Marinette. Adrien’s waiting.”

There was still overwhelming kindness in her voice, marred only by a barely detectable trace of sadness in her eyes. Marinette had come to know those bright blue eyes as well as her own, and she recognized what her leaving would do to Chloé.

“I’m only sad because I’m confusing you, Marinette,” Chloé answered the unspoken question… or was it unspoken? She found she could feel Chloé’s thoughts and Chloé could feel hers. There was a wonderful completeness to this moment as she lay beside this girl who had come to mean so much to her so quickly. 

Adrien seemed somehow further away even though she hadn’t seen him move, and she felt as if she must choose now while she still could. But how could she choose? And who did she want to choose?

The bed was soft and warm like Chloé. It smelled of lavender and vanilla like Chloé. When she snuggled deeper into the bed’s embrace, she had the profound satisfaction of Chloé’s arms clasped tightly around her.

A light emanating from Adrien’s direction caught her attention. She turned her head to look at him. He was as always beautiful and perfect, almost otherworldly except his innate gentleness made him simultaneously dazzling and welcoming. Now, there was a blinding, golden light shining where his heart was, and Marinette could feel it pulling at her.

There was a second light, though. It was also golden and shining so brightly it hurt to look at, but this wasn’t Adrien. This light belonged to Chloé. She sat on the bed, still silently imploring Marinette to go to Adrien as if Chloé couldn’t see the perfect, shining heart she herself possessed, too.

This was important. She could not say why, but some distant part of her knew that Tikki needed to know about this. 

The two lights were pulling at her attention, though, and Marinette forgot about her kwami for the moment. Marinette realized that she needed to follow one of the lights, and both were fascinating… bewitching…

But she could only choose one.

Time stood still in the room. The cat now curled in Adrien’s lap with its green eyes focused intently on her… Adrien patiently hoping for Marinette to choose him but afraid somehow she wouldn’t… Chloé urging Marinette to go to Adrien, her destiny. 

But was Adrien truly her destiny? Once she had known he was without any doubt, and now all she felt was uncertainty. 

Looking back and forth between the two shining hearts, Marinette noticed that Chloé’s felt more… familiar. Not the kind of familiarity that lessened excitement or made her feel as if there was nothing new to learn. No, Chloé’s heart felt… opened to her in ways Adrien’s hadn’t yet… although Marinette knew if she reached out to Adrien’s heart it would unfold and bloom like a flower made of light just as Chloé’s was right now.

But Marinette found as she watched Chloé’s heart blossoming into an intricate, delicate, perfect prism of radiance before her eyes that she was inescapably pulled to it. She reached out and now the room faded out of existence as did the cat and Adrien. Only she and Chloé remained, both now glowing and golden as Marinette touched the source of light from Chloé—the heart of Chloé.

Marinette looked at Chloé and her choice was made. “Please? I want you, Chloé, if you’ll have me.”

Chloé, who now seemed composed solely of golden light, leaned forward and said, “I’m yours and only yours forever.”

Elation soared through Marinette, and she knew the other girl felt the same. 

Chloé reached forward touching Marinette’s heart…

And Marinette felt completed… whole… purified and distilled… consummated. She could sense with startling clarity that Chloé felt these same things.

Laughing, Marinette leaned forward into Chloé who mirrored her perfectly until their lights unified as one… melded into a new whole… stronger than before… 

This was right.

Marinette’s eyes snapped open. 

She knew immediately she had been dreaming of something wonderful and relaxing, but she couldn’t recall the details. Slowly, awareness poked through the haze of just waking, and she realized that she was wrapped around Chloé, her head cushioned against Chloé’s chest with Chloé’s arms holding her close.

They were both still wearing their clothes instead of pajamas. They must have fallen asleep together after returning from the Eiffel Tower… after Chloé finally opened up to Marinette about her past. She looked up at her friend and felt a hollow need aching in her stomach. She wanted to comfort Chloé. No one should feel as isolated as Chloé did. She deserved so much better.

Marinette should move. She should extract herself carefully and quietly, but she was so warm and comfortable.

Maybe she could go back to sleep and find that perfect dream again…

Chloé stirred. Marinette’s waking must have disturbed her.

“Time for school?” she asked sleepily.

“No,” Marinette closed her eyes again as she answered with a sleepy smile. “It’s Saturday, Chloé, and anyway Maman hasn’t called us for breakfast yet.”

Time… Something about time…

Marinette bolted upright, blinking. Chloé jerked fully awake as well when Marinette pulled from her arms.

“What’s wrong, Marinette?”

“The time! What time is it?”

Chloé looked over to her alarm clock. “Almost midnight,” she answered sounding concerned.

Marinette tried to stand but ended up rolling off the bed in a heap, hitting the floor hard.

“Ow!” she said as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m dead, Chloé. So dead!”

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Chloé asked again, more concerned now that she was more awake.

“You know I’m supposed to either be home by nine or call and it’s almost midnight and I didn’t tell my parents anything about what I was doing tonight so they have no idea where I am and it’s almost midnight and oh god I’m so dead!” she rattled off as she unwrapped herself from the comforter in which she had become entangled and sprinted towards the closet where she had stored her bag along with Tikki.

Flinging the door open, she saw Tikki settled on a cushion, sleeping. Chloé had made sure there were cushions in random places around the hotel for the kwami’s comfort.

Tikki woke up, but Marinette ignored the kwami and grabbed her bag and started rifling it for her phone.

“It’s not **that** late, Marinette. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“They’re **bakers** , Chloé! Bakers!”

When Chloé simply blinked at Marinette in confusion, the brunette explained further.

“This is like three in the morning to them. Both of them get up every single day at four.”

Chloé made an “oh” of understanding and the worry on her face now matched Marinette’s.

“Seventeen missed calls!” Marinette shouted once she secured her phone and flicked on the lock screen. “And oh god no, she sent a text! My mom sent an actual honest to goodness text!”

“That’s bad?” Chloé asked still trying to fully wake up.

“Maman has never sent a text in her life!”

She showed Chloé the message.

It read “WHERE ARE YOU???” in all-caps.

“She used all-caps, Chloé! All-caps!”

Chloé frowned. “Um… Won’t she understand that you dozed off?”

Marinette chuckled darkly and without real humor. “No. No, she will not,” she said staring at the phone like it might electrocute her at any second. 

Her maman was a kind, patient, and loving woman, but there were certain hard and fast rules. Not staying out late at night without permission was one. Always having your phone charged and available in case of emergencies was another. These were big rules for her maman, and she had violated both at once.

Chloé took Marinette’s hand, and instantly Marinette felt her heartbeat slow. 

“Call her, Marinette,” the blonde said calmly. “You can say it’s my fault if you need to.”

Marinette shook her head while she clicked on the icon to dial home. “No, I’m not blaming you,” she said with a hint of annoyance. She didn’t like that Chloé was so quick to take blame for troubles of Marinette’s own creation.

Chloé looked at her skeptically but remained silent as Marinette held the phone to her ear.

Her mother picked up after half a ring. “Where are you, young lady?” she said sharply without preamble.

“Um… Hi, Maman! I’m so sorry. I fell asleep studying,” Marinette said in her best conciliatory tone.

It did not work.

“And since you’re calling me finally, you obviously didn’t lose your phone,” her mother pointed out angrily.

“It was in my bag and I didn’t hear it.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Marinette! And we’re worried sick! We called the police—”

“Wait! You called the police?” Marinette asked, shocked.

Chloé’s disbelief mirrored Marinette’s. Her eyes were comically wide. “Why would they call the police?” she silently mouthed to Marinette.

Marinette shrugged and gave her an uncertain, sheepish half-grin. “Why did you call the police?” she asked, incredulously.

“Why?” her mother asked, disbelief clear in her voice. “Because I have a teenage daughter wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night without telling her parents where she would be, who is also not answering her phone!”

“Wandering the str—? Wait, no. Never mind that. What did the police say?” Marinette asked, praying the police weren’t scouring the city searching for her. She decided it best to not debate the “wandering the streets” point at this particular moment.

“They said that you’re technically an adult and it’s too soon to declare you missing or kidnapped.”

“And they’re right, Maman,” Marinette said, hoping to soothe her mother. “I am eighteen. And I just fell asleep for a little while. I’m perfectly fine.”

“As long as you’re in school and living in our house, you will **not** do things like this. I was worried half to death! All you had to do was call and let us know you would be out late and it would have been fine. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’m **really** sorry, Maman, and I’ll be home soon.”

“Where are you? We’ll come pick you up,” her mother said, still furious. “It’s pouring out and I won’t have you getting sick walking in this weather.”

Marinette went to the other side of the room to Chloé’s balcony and opened the curtain, looking outside.

“Huh. It **is** raining,” Marinette said, surprised.

She could feel her mother’s frustration through the phone. “Marinette,” she said. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Chloé’s,” Marinette answered instinctively, distracted by the awful weather. She knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. Marinette knew her mother would remember all the times she had overheard her and Alya complaining about Chloé.

“Chloé? Who is—Do you mean the mayor’s daughter? That’s who you’ve been tutoring?”

“Yes,” Marinette said, resigned to what was coming because Maman clearly remembered.

“The one who hates you?”

“It’s not like that now, Maman,” Marinette said, lowering her voice and hoping Chloé couldn’t overhear.

“The one you hate?”

“I said it’s not like that now, Maman,” she said, annoyance starting to bleed into her voice.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Marinette,” her mother said forcefully. “I want to meet this girl.”

“Uh… okay… why?” Marinette responded, beginning to sweat at the panic-inducing idea of introducing Chloé to her mother, especially right after Marinette had screwed up so badly. 

She could swear she heard her mother sputtering on the other end of the line. “Why do you think, Marinette? You’ve been so **busy** spending all your time tutoring this girl—so busy I feel like I’ve barely seen you in weeks as you come home and go straight to your room. And that’s not counting all the times you’ve called and said you’ll be out late and then end up staying the night at this girl’s home!”

Marinette had zero desire to discuss how often she was sleeping in Chloé’s suite with her mother because there was a not-insignificant chance that sleeping arrangements—aka the sharing of Chloé’s bed—might come up, so she desperately tried to change the subject. 

“When do you want to meet her?” Marinette asked, hoping she sounded casual. “Tomorrow?”

“You mean the day your father has the huge order you said you’d help him with, Marinette?”

Marinette slapped her forehead. “I forgot about helping with Papa’s order.”

That was the worst thing she could have said. 

“You forgot?” her mother asked, quietly. 

Marinette swallowed. It wasn’t a good sign when her mother’s voice went that soft.

“Um… I fell asleep?” That didn’t even make sense as an answer. She was so completely dead.

“You—Hold on…” her mother said. Marinette could hear her father’s voice in the background. “Your father thinks we should talk about this in the morning. He thinks I should come to bed, and you should calm down before we discuss your punishment.”

Sure, I’m the one who should calm down, Marinette thought. What she said though was, “You’ll still be waiting up for me when I get home, won’t you, Maman?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll take a cab.”

Chloé poked her head out of the closet looking annoyed. “You’ll do no such thing,” the blonde said, in a scary approximation of Maman’s tone. “I have a limo service for a reason. I forbid you from getting into one of those filthy cabs.”

Forbid? And what was Chloé doing in the closet? 

“Maman, Chloé is going to have her driver take me home.”

“A driver?”

“Yes, Maman, she has a limo service.”

“A limousine.”

Marinette sighed. “Yes, Maman,” she said. She could tell her mother didn’t like this although she had no idea why. It wasn’t that different from a cab… although come to think of it, Marinette had thought riding around Paris in a limousine seemed freaky only a few weeks ago. 

“So you’re riding around town in limousines,” Maman said. “And hiding from me that you’re tutoring the mayor’s daughter—a girl who has taunted and teased and borderline tortured you for years.” Marinette thought this recap was probably for her father’s benefit, which wasn’t a good sign. When she was very young, Marinette had a habit of going to her papa to try to avoid Maman’s punishments. “And the mayor’s daughter now has you out doing who knows what at all hours of the night probably involving clubs… and… and I don’t even want to **think** about what you’re doing in those clubs. I’ve heard how wild this girl is from you and Alya.”

“I’m not doing ‘who knows what,’ and I’ve never once said that Chloé is ‘wild.’ I’m studying with her, and it’s not even midnight yet, and I fell asleep because math is boring.” Okay, that was a small, tiny, insignificant lie, but it couldn’t hurt.

“That’s enough attitude, Marinette,” her mother stated flatly. “Come home. Now.”

Marinette sighed. “Yes, Maman.” 

“Good,” her mother stated. “There are leftovers in the refrigerator. If you haven’t eaten, you’ll have dinner, and we’ll discuss your behavior and lack of respect. Then you will go to bed. I expect you up by six to help your father.”

“Yes, Maman.”

“We’ll talk when you get home,” she said and hung up without giving Marinette a chance to respond.

Groaning, Marinette flung her phone onto the bed and walked over to the closet where Chloé was rummaging while Tikki watched.

“What are you doing, Chloé?” she asked.

“Changing clothes,” Chloé answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay… why?”

Chloé stood holding a pair of jeans (not even designer skinny jeans!) and a faded tee-shirt (Marinette hadn’t even been aware that Chloé owned clothes that level of casual) and looked at Marinette with her brow raised. “So I can take you home.”

“Same question, Chloé. Why?”

“I’m not letting you face this alone.”

“That’s sweet, but you don’t need to take the heat for this,” Marinette insisted.

Chloé shrugged. “I need to introduce myself to your parents properly at some point.”

“And you think **this** is the time to do that?”

Chloé paused. “No, I don’t. It’s not ideal, but I’m not letting you face this alone.”

Marinette was simultaneously impressed and at a loss. “Okay, but don’t try to take the blame for me. This is my fault.”

Chloé looked at her crossly. “You were exhausted because I dumped a whole lot of emotional garbage on you tonight, Marinette.”

“First, your feelings aren’t garbage, and you will **never** say they are again,” Marinette said, raising her voice to let Chloé know she wasn’t going to debate this as the blonde opened her mouth to protest. “And second I want to be here for you on nights like tonight. That’s sort of the point of friendship.”

Chloé smiled, and Marinette knew that smirk too well. She had fallen into a trap. 

“And that’s why I’m going with you, Marinette. You’re there for me, and I want to be there for you, too,” Chloé said sweetly… before flashing a triumphant grin and mirroring Marinette’s own words, “That’s sort of the point of friendship.”

Marinette had to admit Chloé had her there. “Huh, well that’s… actually a good point.”

“I do have those on occasion,” Chloé snarked.

“Shut up and let me get to my bag,” Marinette huffed. She hated when Chloé twisted things around until Marinette had to agree with her. Okay, maybe she didn’t hate it and sort of really liked it, but it **was** annoying.

Chloé chuckled and moved out of the way. She was always content with the victory as long as Marinette knew that Chloé had won.

“I’ll go change,” Chloé said, and left Marinette to gather her things and Tikki.

Marinette took the time to apologize for being so brusque with the kwami, and Chloé returned shortly. She even had on tennis shoes. Wait, since when did Chloé own tennis shoes?

“Um…” Marinette said, cleverly while looking wide-eyed at Chloé.

“What? Do I have something on my face? Is it my hair?” she asked as she turned towards her vanity to go check her ponytail.

“No,” Marinette answered quickly. “I’ve just never seen you dress so casually.”

Chloé frowned. “Is this bad? I thought casual would be best since we’re supposed to be studying.”

“No!” Marinette insisted. “You look amazing… er… I mean, you’re fine. I’m just surprised.”

The blonde’s hair was a bit messy from sleep, but that didn’t detract from her look at all. In fact, she had sort of a really nice domestic vibe going, which Marinette found appealing.

“Um…” the brunette said, refocusing. “We should get going.”

Tikki jumped in Marinette’s bag, and Chloé grabbed her purse as they headed out the door.

The ride home was tense. Actually, that wasn’t quite accurate. Marinette was as taut as a rubber band at the snapping point. Chloé, on the other hand, seemed completely composed although Marinette could tell from the set of Chloé’s shoulders that she was nervous, too. Since the partition was up and the driver couldn’t hear, Marinette felt it safe to broach certain subjects.

“Why do you always seem so calm when you’re about to get yelled at?” Marinette asked. “I mean when you’re… um… being the you that you are at school…” She paused and ran that through her head to see if it made sense and decided it was close enough. “You’re always pretending like you’re too self-absorbed to notice anyone that’s angry at you, but I’ve seen behind the scenes now, and you do care. I know that. But you always look so calm.”

Chloé, who had been watching out the window, turned to face Marinette. She tilted her head, puzzled.

“Marinette,” she began. “I think you know better than anyone that when I’m nervous, I have tells.”

Marinette looked confused.

“The finger tapping? All the little quirks and movements I do as repetitive habits? You never mention them, but I know you notice,” Chloé offered as explanation. 

“Oh,” Marinette said, considering. “Yeah. I thought it might be rude to bring that up. I can tell it embarrasses you.”

Chloé shrugged. “It does.”

“Is it okay if I ask why you do the tapping and stuff? If it’s not, that’s okay, too.”

“It’s fine. I don’t know exactly. All my parents cared about when I was little—and it was much worse then—was that I not do it in front of anyone, or people would talk.” She paused and pursed her lips. Marinette knew her well enough now to know that was a sign that Chloé was frustrated but didn’t feel she had a right to complain. “I used to constantly pace in circles and make weird gestures with my hands any time I was thinking. Things like that.

“I think… I think it’s about rhythm. Rhythm comforts me. It feels like I’m… composing my thoughts. I don’t think that makes sense, but it’s the best I can describe it.”

“I think it makes sense,” Marinette assured her. “And I think you do control it really well, but you shouldn’t feel like you have to, at least not in front of me. I wish I could pull off cool and collected like you do, though. I’m sort of jealous. I can’t hide what I’m feeling at all.”

“Does it help knowing I’m here for you?” Chloé asked. “If not, I can always have you dropped off and go home if my coming along was a bad idea.”

Marinette liked the idea of Chloé being there. She was more comforting than people would think. “Having you with me does help actually. A lot.”

“Okay. Well, that’s how I try to stay calm,” Chloé said. “I know you’re here for me. Before… it was different. I just wanted to be untouchable, so I created a character and did everything I could to be that person all the time. That’s how I could always be calm. Whatever anyone said, I could just think to myself that it wasn’t really me they were mad at.

“Now… I don’t know… I’m trying to be the me I’ve hidden for most of my life, at least some of the time. I think I like this version of me. You let me be me, and you’re okay with it. I don’t feel like you’re embarrassed by me.”

She was smiling that small smile Marinette loved so much, the one that showed such vulnerability and sensitivity. Marinette didn’t think Chloé smiled that way for anyone else. 

Marinette felt a thousand butterflies swirl madly in her stomach. She remarked to herself that Chloé was paying her a great compliment as a friend. When she felt she was able to speak again, she said quietly, “You’re definitely not an embarrassment. I feel really lucky to see this part of you.”

The car pulled up to the bakery and the driver came around with an umbrella. Marinette and Chloé shared it until they got under the awning. The driver pulled to the curb to wait on Chloé’s return.

Marinette took a deep breath as she unlocked the door, and the two went in. Marinette only realized after they were inside that they were holding hands, and there was something playing on the edge of her memory about holding Chloé’s hand. She didn’t have time to worry about that, though. She didn’t let go of Chloé’s hand as they went upstairs to the family’s living area.

Her mother was seated, illuminated by the light of a single lamp. She was flipping through a magazine, or at least she had a magazine in her lap. Marinette had no idea if she was actually looking through it.

It didn’t really matter, she thought.

“Hi, Maman. Um… this is Chloé,” she said, quietly by way of introduction.

Her mother regarded the two of them, expression neutral. “I don’t recall you asking if it was okay to bring a guest home.”

Marinette’s stomach tightened. Those words roughly translated as her mother thinking that Marinette had brought Chloé as some sort of shield.

She began to protest, but Chloé spoke first.

“I apologize, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé said. “I… forced the issue.”

“Please, call me Sabine,” her mother responded, neutrally. “And forced the issue?” 

Maman’s icy calm increased Marinette’s apprehension exponentially, but she wasn’t going to let Chloé take the fall.

“It’s my own fault that I’m late, Maman,” she said before Chloé could speak.

The blonde gave her an annoyed glance before facing Marinette’s mother again. “Marinette was helping me and we were in my suite, so I feel like I’m at least partially responsible.”

For what felt like an eternity, Maman contemplated the two of them. “It’s good that both of you are willing to take responsibility. That is—and I’ll be honest, Chloé—not what I would have expected from everything I’ve heard.”

Marinette closed her eyes. Of course! Of course, Maman would do this!

She was startled when Chloé gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, giving her the strength to open her eyes again.

“I’m…” Chloé began hesitantly. “I’m trying to be… better. I’m sure everything you’ve heard from Marinette is the truth. I won’t dispute any of it, but I’m trying to be better than that now.

“I don’t know if I can, but… Marinette has helped me so much, and… and I just wanted to say that.” Chloé trailed off, but spoke again after a short pause. “Sorry, I think that sounded better in my head.”

She had directed that last part to Marinette who then returned the reassuring squeeze of a hand Chloé had given to her.

“I see,” Maman said, drawing both girls’ attention back to her. Marinette saw her gaze flick to the two girls’ clasped hands briefly.

Marinette didn’t release Chloé’s hand. She would explain later to her maman that they were friends now.

“Well,” her mother continued. “We can talk about this tomorrow, Marinette.” She turned her attention to Chloé. “Thank you for coming over, and I respect you standing up for my daughter. I would like to invite you to lunch tomorrow, so I can get to know you a bit since you seem to be a big part of Marinette’s life now.”

Marinette felt a bit faint. Did Maman think that she and Chloé were…

Her thought was interrupted by Chloé speaking again. “Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” she said confidently. “I want to help.”

“Help?” Maman asked echoing Marinette’s unspoken question. “Help what?”

Chloé nodded. “I overheard Marinette speaking about an order tomorrow from your bakery. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”

Maman waved her off. “Thank you, Chloé, and I appreciate the offer, but we start very early.”

Chloé nodded and everything about her said she was very serious. “4:00 am,” she said.

Maman seemed startled that Chloé wasn’t taking the opportunity to escape.

“Chloé,” Marinette said. “You would only get a couple of hours’ sleep by the time you get home and go to bed. I can’t ask you to—”

Chloé cut her off. “It’s okay, Marinette. I can do without a little sleep.”

“If you’re serious,” Maman said. “And I have no reason to think you aren’t, you should listen to Marinette. I would offer you a place to stay, but we don’t have a guest room.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Chloé stated like she slept on floors all the time.

“No,” Marinette said, forcefully. “You will **not** sleep on the floor. You’ve never made me sleep on the floor, and there’s no way you’re going to do that.”

Chloé had a determined set to her jaw. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Marinette.”

“Girls, that’s enough arguing,” Maman said in her Mother Voice, which Marinette thought was her maman’s special superpower. It ended all arguments. “Chloé, I appreciate the offer, but you should go home. I’m not sure you understand what starting work that early in the morning means.”

Marinette bridled at the unspoken criticism directed towards her friend and found herself leaping to Chloé’s defense. “She gets up at 5:00 am every morning, Maman. That’s not the problem.”

“Why would the mayor’s daughter get up that early?” Maman asked, dubious.

Marinette was on a roll and didn’t give Chloé a chance to answer for herself. “She has… well, a pretty thorough skin care regimen and…” Marinette stopped. She worried that revealing even this much was a betrayal to Chloé.

Maman eyed Chloé, sharply. “Are you the reason my daughter’s now wearing sunscreen and using all those products in her bathroom?”

“Maman!” Marinette said, scandalized. “You’re going through my things? In my **bathroom**?” And of course, Maman was on about the sunscreen again. She had bothered Marinette about not using sunscreen for years.

She received a very flat stare for her accusation. “I was cleaning, Marinette. Someone has to.”

Chloé had recovered enough to speak up. “Well, I’m not forcing her to use sunscreen, but the effects of the sun on unprotected skin are—”

“Not something to take lightly,” Maman supplied nodding. She had a small smile and was very obviously seeing Chloé in a new light. “I’ve tried to get Marinette to take this seriously for years. I’m just her mother, not a… friend.”

There was only the slightest pause and emphasis on that last word, but Marinette knew she was blushing and was so unbelievably thankful she was standing in a shadow. Maybe Maman hadn’t noticed.

One look told her that was an unrealistic hope. She risked a glance at Chloé who was also tight-lipped and flushed, which was unusual. Chloé was, as Marinette had noted earlier, always so unflappable. Marinette definitely had to set the record straight tomorrow when she had a moment alone with Maman.

“It’s getting late,” Maman said with a calculating glint in her eye. “You’re welcome to sleep over and help. It will be nice to get to know you better.”

Chloé’s smile was nervous, but she nodded vigorously. “Thank you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng! You won’t regret it!”

“Sabine, Chloé. Call me Sabine,” she said as she walked past the two. “Go get some sleep. We have lots to do in the morning.”

Marinette turned to Chloé and opened her mouth, but Chloé anticipated her and said, “I have pajamas in my bag, and I can text my driver to go home.”

The brunette sighed. She didn’t even have it in her to be annoyed. “Come on. You may change your mind when you see the bed.”

They went up to Marinette’s room, and Marinette released Chloé’s hand for the first time since entering the bakery as she opened the door to her room.

Chloé looked at the bed like it might bite her. “It’s… a very pretty bed.”

“Yes, it is,” Marinette said, now with a smirk of her own. “It’s a very pretty and very **small** bed.”

Chloé cleared her throat and tilted her head. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the floor? I’m not sure there’s enough room for… um… how we usually sleep.”

What Chloé meant was that they had been in the habit of sleeping side by side holding hands, although that had changed earlier this evening, and she said as much. “It’s fine, Chloé. We were okay sleeping with each other close earlier.”

She meant it too. She trusted Chloé. The other girl had done nothing to indicate that she was plotting some sort of secret seduction. That thought summoned the butterflies again, which Marinette decided to ignore. It had been a strange day and her emotions were raw. She and Chloé were friends, and Marinette felt silly.

They quickly got ready for bed and Marinette sat down on the bed. Chloé stood a small distance from the bed still looking wary.

Marinette extended her hand and said, “I said I’m fine, and I mean it, Chloé.”

Chloé took Marinette’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled onto the bed. As they settled in, Marinette could feel how rigid Chloé was.

“Loosen up, Bourgeois. You’re as stiff as a board.”

Chloé sighed. “Do you promise you’ll kick me out of the bed if you feel uncomfortable?”

Marinette chuckled. “Sure, but I won’t, so go to sleep.”

She wrapped her arms around Chloé who returned the favor, and after a minute the blonde’s breathing fell into a rhythm and her arms relaxed. She was asleep. Marinette smiled and found sleep soon after.

Too soon, a knock on the door woke them.

“I’m up, Maman!” she called out. Marinette assumed it was her mother. She would apologize if Papa had been the one to wake them. 

Both girls got ready more or less on autopilot and sleepily made their way to the bakery kitchen, where they found Marinette’s papa.

He was busy shaping dough into croissants. He was only on his third one, so he must have just started cutting and shaping.

“One moment, girls,” he said absently. “I’ll be right with you.” He finished shaping the croissant and turned with a smile. “You must be Chloé. Sabine said you would be helping us today.”

Chloé smiled, but Marinette could tell she was unsure of herself. “Thank you, Mr. Dupain-Cheng,” she said, quietly.

Papa laughed. “Please. You’ll exhaust yourself with that mouthful of a name. Just call me Tom.” His broad grin was always welcoming, and Marinette could see Chloé edge towards relaxing. “Have you baked before? At home?”

Chloé shook her head, but she settled into that determined look Marinette admired so much. “No,” she said. “But I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

Papa nodded and smiled reassuringly. “Well, we’ll get you settled. Give me one second to show Marinette what I need her working on in the front.”

Chloé nodded and began closely examining the croissant Papa had just shaped as Papa led Marinette to the front.

Marinette could tell that Papa was uncertain about Chloé, but she was glad he was willing to give her a chance.

At the front counter, there was a stack of flat boxes that needed to be folded and prepped for the baked goods. This was something Marinette was an old hand at.

“Marinette,” Papa began. “I’ll send Chloé up to help you if that’s alright?” He smiled like he felt he needed to soften the statement, which confused Marinette.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Why did you need to bring me up here to say that?”

“Your mother mentioned that you’re… protective of your friend.”

Marinette groaned thinking it was way too early for this. He did the same thing Maman did last night, emphasizing that last word like it was code for girlfriend. “Oh my god! Yes. She is my friend. Emphasis on friend.” She kept her voice down so Chloé wouldn’t hear this silliness.

Papa raised an eyebrow. “You’re being a bit defensive.”

“Because you and Maman are being ridiculous! Chloé and I are friends!”

Papa nodded indulgently, and Marinette restrained herself from screaming. What was wrong with her parents?

She took a deep breath before she made a scene. “Let’s just go get Chloé, and she and I can make boxes.” She didn’t wait for an answer and stalked back towards the kitchen.

Her father followed chuckling, and when they got back to the kitchen, they found Chloé shaping croissants on the baking tray. There were nearly a dozen on the tray now.

Chloé looked up, surprised, and then looked back and forth hesitantly between the croissants and Papa. “I hope it’s okay that I… um…” she said. She looked so timid at the moment when at almost any other time, Chloé possessed a fierceness that both frustrated and inspired Marinette.

She resisted the urge to spring forward and comfort Chloé because Papa would misinterpret that for sure.

As Marinette waffled on a course of action, Papa moved past her and examined the tray. “These are… perfect.” He looked up from the tray at Chloé, surprise painted on his face.

Marinette beamed. “She’s really great with things like this! You should see her dissect a frog!”

Papa laughed. “I’m not sure that’s exactly the same, but hard to argue with the results.”

Chloé was blushing furiously, which Marinette chalked up to how early it was, since Chloé was rarely caught this off-balance, but Marinette was adamant she deserved the praise. 

“It’s true, Papa,” she said. “There’s no one better than Chloé is with her fingers!”

And then she was turning scarlet, and Chloé looked like she might die of embarrassment. Her parents were never going to let her live this down.

“That sounded better in my head,” Marinette offered weakly.

Papa just chuckled again and said, “Don’t worry. Go work on those boxes while I try to recruit a new apprentice.” He winked at Chloé who grinned.

Marinette’s spirits soared, and she happily went to the front and started constructing boxes. She could hear Papa’s and Chloé’s cheerful voices on occasion and it made her heart swell with happiness.

After a couple of hours, Maman came from upstairs and smiled at Marinette.

“How’s my wayward daughter?” she asked.

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. “Reduced to hard labor, but after my days as a hardcore party girl on the club scene, I guess I’m getting off easy.”

Maman laughed. “Put that aside and come help me with breakfast.” She turned towards the stairs and called out to Papa saying, “I’m stealing your daughter, Tom! We’ll have breakfast in a few minutes!”

“Don’t worry!” he called back. “We’re fine here! I’ve almost convinced this one to she should be a baker!”

Chloé’s laugh was clear and bright all the way from the kitchen, causing a giddy feeling to sweep through Marinette.

Maman looked puzzled and Marinette laughed.

“I’ll explain upstairs, Maman.”

As they made breakfast, Marinette filled her mother in on Chloé’s croissant skills, and she also told her mother about how hard Chloé was trying to change and how special Marinette felt her friendship with Chloé was, because of how lonely the girl had been and how far she had come.

Her mother kept nodding along and smiling in a way that basically screamed that she had the completely wrong idea about the friendship.

“If you have something to say, Maman,” Marinette said, exasperated. “Just say it.”

“So have the past few years been her version of pulling your pigtails?”

“Ha. Ha.” 

Maman laughed at her discomfort. “I’m glad you’ve made a friend,” she said emphasizing that word in all the wrong ways again. “Although I’m surprised. I had thought you were interested in that boy, Adrien.”

Marinette sputtered. “Maman! How… I… What?!”

It was Maman’s turn to smirk at her. Sometimes it seemed to Marinette that the people she cared about took turns mocking her. “Please, Marinette, you and Alya speak loudly enough that the entire neighborhood knows about your crush.”

Marinette sat down at the table and put her head down on it face first, closing her eyes.

“And,” Maman continued. “It was hard not to notice all those posters you had put up on every inch of wall space in your room.”

Marinette began thumping her forehead repeatedly against the table.

“Stop that, Marinette,” Maman said dropping her playful tone. “You’ll damage the table.”

Marinette did stop, resting her forehead on the table. She cut her eyes at her mother. “Thanks,” she said loading as much snark as she could into the word.

“You’re welcome,” her mother answered as if Marinette’s thanks were completely genuine. She sat down beside her daughter. “I just want you to be happy, Marinette, and if Chloé makes you happy—”

“Maman!” Marinette exclaimed, sitting up. “We’re really just friends!”

“Just friends?”

“Uh, yeah. Friends. I’m not sure why you’re so fixated on this.”

“What was that last night about Chloé never making you sleep on the floor?” her maman asked cocking her head slightly in a way that Marinette had long ago come to understand that she thought Marinette took her for a fool, which for the record Marinette didn’t.

“Er…” Marinette replied, admiring her masterful rhetorical skills.

“You hide who you’re spending time with. You hide your sleeping arrangements,” Maman said. “Like you said last night, you’re technically an adult and believe it or not, both your papa and I trust your judgment.” Maman stopped and sighed before continuing. “Marinette, You know I love your father—”

Marinette blinked, completely lost. “What?”

“Hush,” her mother said. “Let me finish. You know I love your father, but when I brought him home to meet my parents, my maman took me aside and told me that she liked him but his face was so easy to read that he might as well take out an ad in the paper.

“She was right. He can’t hide his feelings. He still looks at me the same way he did that day, and I’m thankful for it.”

Marinette was still confused. “Okay, and that means what exactly?”

“You are your father’s daughter. Your face is an open book.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “No, Maman. You’re wrong.”

Maman smiled gently. “Marinette, the way you held her hand last night…” She paused and shook her head. “No matter. You’ll figure out how you feel one way or another, but a bit of advice?”

Marinette sighed. “Sure, Maman. Advise away.”

“Two things. First, don’t fight being happy. It might turn out you want something different from what you used to want. If Adrien makes you happy, that’s wonderful. If Chloé makes you happy, that’s wonderful too—now that I’ve seen she’s not the deranged lunatic you made her out to be.”

“Okay, that’s not fair!” Marinette said, temper rising.

“Oh no, you’re not protective of your **friend**. No, not at all.”

When all Marinette did was stare angrily, Maman continued.

“The second part of my advice is you should stop looking at her like the only reason the sun rises in the morning is to light her way if you don’t feel that way about her—as you keep insisting you don’t. It isn’t fair to her. She very clearly adores you.”

Marinette gaped. She… That was not how she looked at Chloé… Was it? And Chloé… adored her?

“Come,” Maman said, putting the last of the food on the table. “Let’s get our wayward bakers and feed them before they eat the order out of desperation.”

Marinette followed in a daze.

When they went downstairs, they found Papa and Chloé admiring several cakes. The cakes were exquisitely decorated, and Marinette knew instantly that Chloé had done it. Her papa was a wonderful baker, but he wasn’t always the most artistically daring decorator.

“Tom,” Maman exclaimed. “These are gorgeous!”

“Don’t look at me,” Papa said, chuckling and pointing at Chloé, who shyly bowed her head. “Help me convince Chloé to give up the life of a mayor’s daughter so we can adopt her and make a master pastry chef out of her.”

Marinette thought she might explode from sheer joy as she looked at Chloé. The blonde had a smudge of errant flour on her right cheek, and while her hair was pulled back into a ponytail as usual, it was a bit undone with wispy blonde locks framing Chloé’s face and her blue eyes danced, filled with life. She smiled at Marinette and it was so purely happy and she looked like she absolutely belonged in the bakery with Marinette’s family and… and… and… 

Marinette felt… She felt… 

Uh oh. 

She knew this feeling. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, **oh no**. 

Marinette might not have really been on dates and hadn’t really done the kissing and making out stuff, but she was human and… well… like pretty much anyone she had… urges and things like that even if it was terrifyingly embarrassing to even **think** the words let alone ever try to say them out loud…

But the staggering intensity this time was undeniably new. 

It started as a slow, dull pulse moving through her entire body, but it quickly built to a throbbing ache at her core which seemed intent on obliterating every rational thought in her head.

Yes, this was… new.

Suddenly, Marinette felt very uncomfortable standing in front of her parents feeling the particular sensations she was feeling looking at Chloé.

And it wasn’t only physical attraction gripping her, although holy cow she wanted to grab Chloé by the hair and pull her down into a kiss that Marinette wouldn’t allow to be broken until one of them passed out. She wanted to protect and care for Chloé. She wanted to make her smile like she was right now every moment of every day. Maman was right. Marinette had feelings for Chloé. Strong feelings. 

Love.

“Uh oh,” she said under her breath.

“What was that, Marinette?” Papa asked. Both Chloé and Maman were looking at her questioningly as well.

“I said, ‘uh oh,’” Marinette said, panicked. “Because… the food! It’s getting cold!” She turned and moved for the stairs without looking back. Her legs felt weak, and was that even a thing? She decided it didn’t matter and concentrated on not falling on her face as she climbed the stairs. 

She had no idea what was she supposed to do now. The first step was to survive breakfast… and hope this stupid tingly ache between her legs would just… stop. Then she would start figuring out… **something**. She almost started giggling like a maniac when she had the terrifying, embarrassing idea of turning to Tikki for advice. 

No, she was on her own this time. No one—especially Chloé—could know about this until she had time to sort it out in her own head. Chloé’s life was hard enough without Marinette making it even more complicated. She knew she wasn’t capable of sitting on a secret like this for long, and Chloé deserved to know. More than that, Marinette wanted Chloé to know.

Marinette just had to figure out how to tell her friend she just might be in love with her. 

Nothing big.

In retrospect, Marinette would later be impressed she managed to hold out for almost an hour before confessing everything to Chloé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter honestly makes me smile. A lot. It's the dream sequence probably. I get to pull out all the florid prose. 
> 
> I hope this lives up to expectations for those waiting for Marinette to have The Breakthrough. Next chapter... disaster strikes! (Joking! There is no disaster in the next chapter.) I do need to say, though, that Chapter 9 is undergoing a complete rewrite because I hated what I had. It's about half-done I would estimate, so I'm going to be up late trying to finish this so my poor beta reader can try to fix it all before Monday. I will do my absolute best to publish Chapters 9 and 10 on time.
> 
> For those curious, here are Chloé's cakes: http://imgur.com/guAE05X
> 
> And yes, there's a small homage to Gurren Lagann in this chapter and the last one. I couldn't help it. 
> 
> Edit: I forgot to mention that I decided to use the hyphenated name for Marinette's parents. It just makes sense to me. Also, if Chloé has met them before it's in an episode I haven't gotten to watch yet, so let's just pretend they haven't.


	9. Mutual Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The essence of true love is mutual recognition-two individuals seeing each other as they really are.
> 
> \- _bell hooks, All about Love: New Visions_ (2000)
> 
> Song Choice: “These Words” by Natasha Bedingfield

Chloé was certain she had just misheard Marinette. Surely, the girl hadn’t said the words Chloé thought she had just said.

No, she had to be hearing things, and it had to be down to the very strange twenty-four hours she had just experienced. Things were moving way too fast after her confrontation with Chat Noir and then telling Marinette about Angelique before falling asleep in the brunette’s arms and finally ending up being a baker’s assistant for a day as penance for keeping Marinette out late. With so much happening all at once, it was only natural that her head was spinning from it all. She was struggling to maintain her usual composure, blushing at praise and lacking her usual self-confidence when dealing with upset authority figures.

But if she had to pinpoint the source of what was unsettling her, it could only be last night’s dream. Not that there was anything disturbing about dreams of vacationing in the countryside with Marinette. It was actually a very peaceful, relatively normal dream, except for the part at the end where she and Marinette had transformed into beings made of pure light and then… **something** strange happened, and she wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she kept thinking that she should tell Tikki about it. Of all the people she knew—and yes, she considered Tikki a person—the kwami seemed like the most likely to understand weird, maybe-mystical dream stuff.

And there was the fact that she still wasn’t sure which part of her subconscious brought along Adrien and a random cat, but she was pretty sure **why** they were there. The cat had to be Chat Noir since the encounter at the Eiffel Tower had been fresh in her mind. As for Adrien… well, part of her felt… not **guilty** precisely, but uneasy at least at how she kept monopolizing more and more of Marinette’s time with her feelings instead of finding a way to push her towards the boy she belonged with. A rebellious part of Chloé had started asking why she was so certain that Marinette belonged with Adrien, and when Marinette had chosen her in the dream instead of Adrien, any lingering guilt or unease or turmoil evaporated. All she knew was that Marinette wanted to be with her (in the dream at least) and that was perfectly fine by Chloé.

And the post-dream part of her night had started off heavenly, reinforcing those feelings. She had woken up in Marinette’s embrace, knowing the brunette was why she had made it through her confession about Maman and Angelique. Chloé had relied on Marinette for the strength to make that confession, and Marinette—her friend and the woman she loved—had happily shared that strength with her. Waking up intertwined with Marinette—close enough to feel every part of the brunette’s body pressed against her—left her feeling at peace. It was okay, somehow, for Chloé to be there. She didn’t need to push Marinette away for her own sake or for Marinette’s. 

It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time—this feeling that it was a good thing for her to be close to another person. She liked it, and she could sense that Marinette liked it, too. Somewhere along the way, Chloé had come to accept that she didn’t have to have every move of her day mapped out, at least when it came to Marinette, who would always look out for her and protect her. Of course, Chloé intended to take her usual precautions against everything else. No need to go crazy or anything.

And when all the events started tumbling together, Chloé felt proud of herself for standing up for Marinette when they faced Sabine, as Marinette’s mother insisted on being called. The only hiccup had come after the confrontation with Sabine, when a brief moment of fluttery panic seized Chloé over how intimately small Marinette’s bed was. And then she had felt as if she could sense Marinette’s eagerness (and Marinette’s confusion at her own eagerness) to have Chloé in her bed. It was nonsensical. Sure, she had come to know Marinette very well and could interpret her body language and other small signs as to how the brunette was feeling, but her imagination had to be running wild.

So she had let Marinette pull her into bed and that was that. After they had been awoken by Sabine, the rest of the morning went so well that Marinette’s papa kept joking about making Chloé his apprentice.

That was really nice, too. Chloé had no inclination to make a career out of baking, but it was something she intended to pursue as a hobby if she ever lived in a place with its own kitchen. She loved how precise the measurements needed to be when it came to the flour and the eggs and all the other ingredients. There was a wonderful sense of order to the whole business despite how messy it could be at times. Chloé had never realized that work like that could be so enjoyable.

That was when the oddest part of an odd morning occurred, right as they went to eat breakfast. Marinette and Sabine had prepared the meal, and they had come downstairs to let Chloé and Tom know it was time to eat. Sabine and Tom began making a fuss over Chloé’s cake-decorating skills, and Marinette was visibly thrilled that her parents were happy.

That was when the strangest sensation gripped Chloé. She didn’t quite understand it, but she felt… horny? It made no sense whatsoever. She wasn’t sure how to describe it truthfully, but if she had to, she would say it felt more like an echo of arousal—a really intense echo of arousal, though. It was like someone was describing a state of arousal well enough that Chloé felt it, too.

She must have been acting odd because Marinette started babbling about breakfast. Chloé wondered if she had made a misstep. She wanted to tell Marinette that she was sorry if she had done something to make her feel unsettled, but between having the Dupain-Chengs sitting there and Marinette avoiding everyone’s gaze, there wasn’t really a chance. Chloé simply focused on her food and ignored the tingly feeling that was growing in intensity by the minute.

Finally as breakfast was ending, Sabine looked at the two girls and smiled.

“I think you two have done enough on very little sleep,” she said, gently. “Why don’t the two of you take the rest of the day off? We’ll finish up in the bakery.”

Marinette stopped staring at her plate of half-eaten food and looked up in surprise. “I thought I was grounded.”

Tom shrugged. “The two of you worked hard, and you owned up to your mistake. Let’s call this a warning.”

Marinette’s parents smiled, and Chloé was thrilled that Marinette wouldn’t be punished. She had been busy helping Chloé through a tough moment, after all, leading to her forgetting to call home.

The brunette looked at Chloé. “Actually, yeah. A nap sounds good, and… yeah.”

Chloé was concerned. Something was off with Marinette. She could feel the girl’s nerves as if she was experiencing the same uncertainty.

That was ridiculous, though. She must have needed sleep more than she realized.

“I should probably go home and let you get some rest, Marinette,” Chloé said.

“Um…” Marinette said, uncertainly, “If it’s okay, can we talk? In my room?”

Sabine raised her eyebrows at that and seemed as if she was about to say something when Tom chuckled and put his arm around her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, and Sabine nodded before saying, “Girls, we’ll be down in the bakery if you need us. We’ll let you sleep until lunchtime.”

Chloé wasn’t precisely sure what to do or say about Marinette’s parents thinking she and Marinette were involved. Chloé felt flattered, but she suspected that was why Marinette was uncomfortable.

“Sure,” Marinette answered, taking Chloé by the hand and hurrying her out of the room towards her bedroom.

Chloé decided that once they were alone, she and Marinette could clear the air and Chloé could assure Marinette that she wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of her future with Adrien. That was technically a lie, since she had been fantasizing about doing just that, but it wasn’t like she would act on the impulse. She respected Marinette’s feelings too much, and she was done hurting Adrien to protect herself.

As they went up to Marinette’s bedroom, the brunette was quiet. She didn’t speak until they were both in her room with the door shut. Tikki appeared from under a pillow on Marinette’s bed, but after one knowing look at the two, she flew over to Marinette, whispered in her ear for almost thirty seconds, and then flew up through the ceiling to the balcony.

“Chloé,” Marinette said, voice shaking as she turned to face the blonde. “I need to be honest about something.”

“Alright, Marinette,” Chloé answered, taking her hand to offer her comfort. Holding Marinette’s hand had become her favorite part of any day.

Marinette nodded and looked up, drawing strength from the contact. Her eyes were watery and Chloé instinctively reached up to wipe away a tear from the edge of Marinette’s eyes. She felt proud of herself that she didn’t feel embarrassed by her actions.

The brunette let out a shuddering breath and said, “I think I’m… I think…” She stopped, closing her eyes tightly and setting her jaw in determination.

Chloé tried to reassure her. “If something’s wrong, Marinette, you can tell me, but if you don’t want to talk, that’s okay, too.”

Marinette shook her head and opened her eyes. Chloé could see resolve in those bluebell eyes as Marinette said, “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s the opposite.

“Chloé, I… I think I’m in love with you.”

Chloé’s heart caught in her throat.

“What?” she managed to choke out after a fit of blinking so rapidly she thought someone had installed a strobe light in the room. Was this real? She had to have misheard due to exhaustion.

“I’m sorry!” Marinette exclaimed. “I know this isn’t what you want—that I’m not **who** you want! But it is how I feel and you deserve to kn—”

Chloé shut her up by pulling her into a kiss.

Marinette squeaked, but didn’t pull away. In fact, she deepened the embrace. To Chloé’s surprise, she felt Marinette’s tongue gently caress her lips before pushing forward against Chloé’s own tongue.

And as soon that happened, any kind of actual thought process shut down, and Chloé felt a low moan coming from deep inside her gut rising out of her. She didn’t resist, instead she shifted over to autopilot, letting her hands and mouth take over. For a blissful eternity, everything in Chloé’s world consisted of the touch and feel and smell and sound and sight of Marinette and only Marinette, and Chloé would have been happy for that to continue forever.

Finally though, they had to come up for air. While the two sat panting on Marinette’s bed (and when had they even made their way to the bed?), Chloé very purposefully tried to put her scrambled thoughts back in order.

She cleared her throat and said, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am **completely** in love with you. Just in case you needed to hear the words or something.”

It was her turn to squeak as Marinette pounced on her, pushing her down on the bed. Another furious bout of kissing ensued. Marinette was a… very aggressive kisser, and Chloé, despite always thinking of herself as a person who would be in control in any situation, found herself rather okay with this.

Chloé’s hand, which had found its way under Marinette’s shirt, slid down Marinette’s back towards her waist, lightly tracing her spine, and that echo of a needy ache which could only be coming from Marinette hit her again. This time the intensity of Marinette’s need increased and was joined by her own.

Marinette stuttered, “Oh!” over and over and over with her eyes closed and hips rolling against Chloé, who had wrapped her legs around the brunette’s waist.

Chloé nipped at Marinette’s collarbone drawing forth a high, soft keening noise from the girl. That noise gave Chloé a moment of clarity and she managed to focus enough to think of practical matters.

“Marinette,” she said, breathlessly. “Your parents…” And that was the extent of her ability to speak clearly as another wave of raw, crude lust originating in Marinette began ricocheting inside Chloé, building in intensity to unbearable levels approaching pain.

“Don’t care,” Marinette growled low and quiet in Chloé’s ear between ragged, panting breaths. “Need you. Just… take… me… touch… me.” She took the time between words to bite Chloé’s earlobe causing Chloé’s breath to catch.

She didn’t have to tell Chloé twice as she was happy to oblige. Marinette’s short, desperate breaths and the desire in her eyes sparked something ravenous inside the blonde. Anyway, Marinette’s parents were two floors down. What was life without a little risk now and then?

Staring at Marinette hungrily, she dropped her hand between Marinette’s legs and felt an astonishing amount of heat radiating off the girl as she cupped her hand around Marinette’s groin and gently squeezed and relaxed her fingers rhythmically.

Marinette stiffened… eyes locked on Chloé’s… whimpering… mouth agape… releasing…

And Chloé could distinctly feel Marinette’s pleasure inside her own head and that was weird and probably meant Chloé was crazy and she did not give a single fuck because it felt so good and brought her so close to an orgasm herself.

Suddenly, Marinette was pulling off Chloé’s shirt and kissing and cupping her breasts through the (thankfully lacy and delicate rather than heavy-duty) bra that Chloé wore. Marinette used her thumbs to massage Chloé’s stiffening nipples through the soft fabric and Chloé had a hard time remembering how to breathe for a second or two.

Then there was more kissing and hands and touching… clothes were coming off and Marinette’s fingers sliding inside Chloé. She bit her own lip hard enough to draw blood trying to keep from screaming, although soon she was reduced to a babbling mess, whining out “Mari!” as she came.

Chloé felt exhausted and overwhelmed and her skin was hypersensitive and prickly to the touch, but she could still feel Marinette’s throbbing need in the back of her head.

Chloé slowly pulled a trembling Marinette to her and gently captured her mouth with her own. She wanted Marinette to feel how special this moment was. This was the culmination of everything that Chloé had hoped and dreamed of for longer than she dared admit even to herself.

She continued the slow, gentle kiss, working her tongue along Marinette’s while she pulled the brunette close with one hand and gently massaged her scalp with the other, running her fingers through Marinette’s silky, thick hair. She pulled away from Marinette’s mouth and began trailing kisses across Marinette’s jawline and down her pale, soft neck, pausing as she reached the pulse point on her throat, kissing and sucking and licking until the brunette was squirming and breathing so fast and hard that Chloé worried the girl might pass out. Chloé took mercy on her partner and blew a hot breath on the wet skin of Marinette’s neck, causing her to whine in desperation.

Chloé loved how much pleasure she could give Marinette just by kissing her, but she didn’t have the patience to tease much longer. She continued to direct her kisses lower and lower along Marinette’s slim, athletic body. She nipped at a sensitive spot on Marinette’s collarbone pulling out another low, rumbling groan from her lover. She paused again to tease Marinette’s perky nipples with her tongue, and she could sense Marinette was starting to come undone.

More quickly now, she dropped her head and kissed and lightly bit along Marinette’s thigh before licking at the hot, wet folds of her lips. She’d never done this before but she could chase Marinette’s responses, feeling her pleasure in the way her hips stuttered and her thighs clenched around Chloé’s head. Chloé ran the flat of her tongue up to Marinette’s clit, and when that won her a little high-pitched wail she did it again, pressing down more firmly.

Soon, she had Marinette on the very brink, and she considered teasing some more to draw this out, but as she looked up to see Marinette’s rapturous face all Chloé could think was that she could never deny this girl what she wanted… what she needed.

Chloé redoubled her efforts, moving to where Marinette responded most and lovingly kissing and stroking until in a few mere moments, Marinette pulled a pillow from the bed and screamed into it.

The muffled sounds made Chloé’s heartbeat accelerate and it was interesting to say the least feeling Marinette’s orgasm as if it was happening to her. Chloé wondered if Marinette had felt hers. Not wanting to let this moment go, Chloé distracted herself from thinking about whatever weirdness was going on and began kissing Marinette’s thigh, sucking just hard enough to leave a faint mark each time.

Finally, Marinette fell back, panting, and Chloé crawled up beside her slowly. Marinette wrapped her hand in Chloé’s hair and pulled herself towards the blonde, delivering a tender, long kiss.

“Marinette,” Chloé asked, suddenly tentative. “May I hold you?”

Marinette nodded. Both girls were trembling. The brunette pulled the comforter over the two and they snuggled into each other, feeling each other’s heartbeat and listening to each other breathing, basking in one another’s warmth, steadying each other until the tremors of lingering pleasure turned into deep, contented intimacy.

And Chloé knew in that moment that she wanted this silent, peaceful intimacy just as much as she wanted the ecstasy of Marinette’s touch and Marinette’s kiss.

Chloé wanted Marinette—all of her in every way. She hoped that Marinette might feel the same for her. She looked into the eyes of the woman she loved.

Marinette was looking back at her with a blissful smile and kissed her on the nose.

“We should talk,” Marinette said, and laughed. She crinkled her nose adorably. “Maybe we should have done that first?”

Chloé shook her head. “I think I’m good with talking after instead of before.” She chuckled and hugged Marinette tight, playfully nipping at her ear.

After a few more minutes of cuddling, Marinette’s face grew serious.

“I can feel you, Chloé… in my head. It’s like I can feel pieces of what you feel,” she said, her voice tinged with concern.

“It’s the same for me,” Chloé responded. “Ever since I woke up from that really weird dream last night with you and Adrien, but I didn’t really get it until we were… um… in the middle of things.”

Marinette blushed, although Chloé didn’t think that was necessary at this point. Then she scrunched her eyebrows and said, “Dream… something about a dream…” Suddenly, her eyes widened in alarm and she asked, “A dream about the farmhouse? It had a porch swing and we were playing in a stream, right?”

Chloé nodded. “You had the same dream?”

“Yes, I remember now!” Marinette said, and explained her version of the dream. It matched Chloé’s dream perfectly.

“I think if this is a Miraculous thing, we should probably tell Tikki about it. Or at least… I have a feeling we’re **supposed** to tell her, if that makes sense,” Chloé answered when they had finished comparing notes.

“I thought the same thing when I was having the dream, but then there was the thing with Maman and I forgot.”

Chloé pulled her close again. “We should get dressed and talk to Tikki. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

She began to get up, but Marinette held her by the arm. “Tikki isn’t here.”

“What?” Chloé exclaimed in alarm. “What if there’s an akuma attack?”

Marinette sat up and Chloé had to remind herself to focus on the subject of Tikki and not the smooth skin and taut muscles of Marinette’s back.

“When we came into the room, she told me…” Marinette paused and chewed her bottom lip. “She told me good luck and said that she could guarantee there wouldn’t be any akuma attacks at least until she got back tomorrow morning.”

“She’s gone? And you didn’t question the part about no attacks?”

“Tikki would never lie to me especially about my duties as a Miraculous holder, and… well… I was a bit… focused on… other things. I assumed she just wanted to give us our privacy.”

Chloé grinned. “Alright,” she said as she pulled Marinette back into her arms. Chloé trusted Tikki completely as well. “Would you like to take that nap now?”

Marinette sighed contentedly and snuggled against her neck. “Yes, please.”

Shortly, Marinette was asleep in Chloé’s arms. Chloé was tired, too, but found she was too preoccupied to sleep. She wasn’t sure where to go from here. Instinct had taken over when Marinette had confessed her feelings. Now, their relationship existed in some sort of grey area, and Chloé was unsure what it all meant despite declarations of love. She didn’t think there was any way to go back to being just friends, and on top of everything else, it was quite obvious that something supernatural was going on with the two of them able to sense the other’s feelings. She supposed that odd occurrences were to be expected when you fell in love with a Miraculous holder.

But what did she want? She listened to Marinette’s gentle, rhythmic breathing and enjoyed the warmth Marinette’s body radiated.

This. Chloé wanted this, and she knew now that the idea of having this relationship in secret would be unacceptable to her. In a sense, all this had really begun when she had declared to Marinette that she wouldn’t allow her papa to think that Marinette was a fling. She meant it then, and felt the same except even more strongly now.

There was only one option, and she would discuss it with Marinette once she was awake. Chloé settled in and held the girl she loved, basking in the easy proximity she had come to enjoy.

Marinette slept until they heard Sabine knocking on the door saying, “Girls? Would you like some lunch?”

Marinette was blinking sleepily, so Chloé answered, “That sounds lovely, Sabine! We’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”

She brushed Marinette’s hair out of her eyes and smiled. “I would like to ask you something… two things actually.”

Marinette yawned and said, “Sure, Chloé. Ask away.”

Chloé didn’t ask immediately. She kissed the inside of Marinette’s wrist and was rewarded with a small sound of pleasure from the brunette.

“When we were… uh… earlier…” Chloé had no idea why she was being so shy now after everything. “I called you Mari. Was that okay?”

Marinette smiled and tilted her head. “It’s cute. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“I don’t know, but if I start calling you by a pet name you hate, I would feel awful.”

“You worry too much, Chloé,” Marinette said and kissed her.

Chloé wondered if Marinette’s kisses would ever cease to make her feel lightheaded. “I learned from a pro,” she teased.

“Mmm… and your second question?” Marinette asked as she began kissing Chloé’s neck.

Chloé’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. Marinette was a quick study when it came to kissing. “I want… Oh, yes right there, Mari, yes… I mean… I want to take you on an official date tonight. I mean… are we dating? Do you want to date me?”

Marinette stopped and sat up to face Chloé, who was now regretting asking the question if it took Marinette’s attention away from her neck.

“Well, **I** want to date, but I know that would make things difficult for you,” Marinette answered.

Chloé nodded. She thought Marinette might be concerned about this. “I think I want to come out for… for you **and** for myself.”

Marinette put her hand on Chloé’s arm. “Chloé, this can be a secret between us. I don’t mind being your secret if that’s what you need.”

“No,” Chloé said emphatically. “I never want you to be a secret. I have to do this if we’re going to have a real relationship.”

“Then I’ll be beside you the whole time,” Marinette said, laughing happily. She hugged Chloé tightly. “I am **so** happy, Chloé!”

“I am, too,” Chloé whispered into her girlfriend’s ear. “But we should probably not keep your maman waiting since you just narrowly escaped being grounded.”

Marinette chuckled and said, “Fine, fine.”

They quickly dressed and went downstairs as Chloé asked, “What’s that like anyway? Getting grounded, I mean.”

“You’ve… really never been grounded?”

Chloé shook her head. “No.”

“Huh,” Marinette said, smiling. “Well, it’s not fun.” Then she slipped her hand into Chloé’s as they went into the kitchen to tell Marinette’s parents that they were officially dating.

Most of that passed in a blur as Chloé’s heart hammered in her ears, but she managed to say what she thought were the right things at the right times. At least, Tom and Sabine were smiling, and Marinette was happy. She was going to take this as a win and move on. She hoped that when they told her papa that it went as smoothly. Somehow, she doubted it would.

But telling Marinette’s parents had gone well. If anything, they teased Marinette lovingly. They didn’t hate Chloé. She was still a little surprised about that even after the events of last night and this morning. Chloé was not a girl who expected to be liked without putting in a great deal of effort.

After lunch, the new couple went back to Marinette’s room and discussed their upcoming date. Chloé had already been making plans in her head to take Marinette shopping for a new dress and then dinner at a very exclusive restaurant, but somehow she found herself agreeing to a much more low-key trip a small art gallery Marinette thought Chloé might like and then dinner at one of Marinette’s favorite cafés.

Chloé’s unconditional surrender might have had something to do with Marinette skillfully nibbling on Chloé’s ear while offering up her ideas for the date. She decided she was okay losing arguments if that was how it was going to happen. This did not dampen her ambition to fill Marinette’s closet with the latest fashions in the least. If Marinette was going to date Chloé Bourgeois, she needed to get use to the fact that she was going to be well taken care of. That was non-negotiable.

Too soon for her liking, Chloé found herself being driven back to her suite at Le Grand Paris. She needed to get ready for tonight, but that meant being away from Marinette, and part of Chloé couldn’t shake the fear that this wonderful, perfect thing that had come into her life would disappear at any moment. She was able to control that nagging suspicion, though, because she could still feel Marinette in her mind even from several miles away. She could tell Marinette was happy, but it wasn’t too specific. The gentle feeling of Marinette’s contentment made her hum happily to herself as she looked out the window, nodding to her own rhythm.

As the limousine passed the Champs Elysees, Chloé was surprised by a text from Adrien asking if she was free. She quickly calculated how long she needed to prepare for her date and told her driver to make a detour to the Agreste mansion before texting back that she was on her way. It must be an emergency, but there was only one reason he would reach out to her instead of Nino or his other friends. He was in a really bad place—so bad that he thought it might frighten or upset his other friends. He and Chloé had seen each other at their worst. There was nothing left either of them could say or do to scare the other off. 

The Agreste mansion looked as gorgeous and as cold as always. Her car was buzzed in and Adrien was waiting at the front door.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Chloé didn’t hesitate, pulling Adrien inside and into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He relaxed into the hug. It had been a long time. For years, the only wholly deserved reaction she had gotten when she hugged Adrien was for him to pull away stiffly, trying to end the embrace as quickly as possible while still leaving them both with dignity intact.

If he wasn’t pulling away now, this must be bad.

“I don’t know, Chloé,” he answered quietly. He pulled back and gave her a small smile. “Thanks for coming, though.”

“Anytime, Adrien,” she said giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he said as he led her to the sitting room. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have texted you. I call you over and then I can’t even…”

“Hush,” Chloé commanded. “It’s always been our deal that we don’t have to talk about whatever’s wrong. We can talk about something else—anything you want.”

They sat quietly beside each other for a few minutes while Adrien looked at the portrait of his mother, and Chloé waited patiently. Whenever one of them hit bottom, the other was there. The past few years, Chloé had pushed herself at him so hard, though, that Adrien had relied on her less and less. She fully intended to make up for it if he would allow her.

“Father had to leave suddenly on business this morning,” Adrien began. “He made sure to make his feelings clear this morning before he left, though. If I don’t do as he wants, he’s going to make sure that no university accepts me.”

Chloé sighed. “That’s ridiculous! How could he find fault with you, Adrien? You’re smart, handsome, and one of the best people I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Adrien shrugged. “You know why.”

Gabriel Agreste was a cold man, but he had once been a man of great passion, or at least one great passion: Adrien’s mother. Ever since she had left, Gabriel had withdrawn into himself and pushed everyone away, including his only son who desperately needed him.

The parallels between Gabriel Agreste and herself made Chloé feel rather uncomfortable. She had found Marinette, though, and Marinette had seen past her rigid boundaries and pulled her into a world of warmth and affection. She never wanted to feel so cold and alone again.

“Is there something in particular he found objectionable this morning?” she asked. Right now, Adrien needed her focus.

“We’re fighting about my future,” Adrien replied. “He wants me to go to business school and then come work for him, and I want to go to university and figure out what it is that I want to do. This morning…” He trailed off with a grimace.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” Adrien countered. “If anyone has a right to ask, it’s you. And thanks for coming over.” He looked at her suddenly. “Actually, you got here fast. Were you nearby?”

As Adrien continued to look at her, she could see his growing surprise. The flour-laced clothes she had worn to the bakery weren’t anything like her usual ensemble.

“I was working,” she said honestly.

“Working?” he asked, dubious. “You… work?”

“Excuse me? I come over and the first thing you do is insult me?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcastic indignation.

Adrien held his hands up. “Sorry, I only meant I hadn’t realized you had started a job.”

Chloé laughed. “Sure, of course that’s what you meant,” she said. Truly, she had snapped to see if it might distract him from his father. She dropped the smirk and said, “Not officially a job. I was helping… a friend.”

She hesitated to call Marinette her girlfriend in Adrien’s presence. The girl had crushed on him for so long that it made her uncomfortable to bring this up. What if he had feelings for Marinette and simply hadn’t acted on them?

Adrien raised an eyebrow and smiled. “A friend? A friend you’re willing to work for?”

He was curious, and Chloé knew better than to think she could make him let this go. “Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “I’m dating someone.”

Adrien brightened immediately. “That’s great, Chloé!” Adrien said, looking happy for the first time since she arrived. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

Chloé blinked. “G-Girl?”

Adrien’s grin turned sarcastic. “Chloé, how long have we known each other? I remember Angelique and how much of a crush you had on her.”

“You knew?” Chloé had been certain no one but Angelique and their parents knew.

“It was obvious to everyone,” Adrien said gently. “She sort of had you wrapped around her finger, Chloé.”

Chloé frowned. “Hardly.” If anyone was going to be doing any wrapping around fingers, it would be Chloé.

“You were devoted to her,” Adrien said, gently. “I’m not sure why, though. She was horrible to everyone, even you.”

“No, she wasn’t!” Chloé felt anger rising. Adrien had no right to question Angelique like that. “She understood me, Adrien.”

He looked doubtful. “The way she behaved… always pushing you around… I’ve always thought that you… well… patterned how you act at school after her.”

“No! She was kind to me, Adrien, no matter how weird I acted. She cared about me more than I deserved.” She began tapping her fingers rapidly against her knee and she could feel herself rocking back and forth. “Angelique was… She was…” Chloé felt short of breath. The tapping sped up. If she could find a rhythm, she would be fine. “Very kind and sweet and…” Where was her rhythm? The tapping sped up. She needed to find it.

Panic. This was panic. It had been so long. She thought she had this under control. Didn’t have to worry about this anymore.

Distantly, she felt strong arms embrace her and hold her tight. She wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually she could hear Adrien’s voice in her ear telling her it would be alright.

She squeezed his arm, and he pulled back to look at her.

“I’m so sorry, Chloé! I didn’t meant to—”

“It’s fine, Adrien,” Chloé interrupted. “It’s fine.” She hated talking about this… weakness inside her.

She noticed her phone was buzzing, and her stomach sank. Marinette.

Chloé picked up her phone saying, “One second, Adrien.”

Marinette had sent several texts in the last few minutes.

**Marinette:** whats wrong

**Marinette:** Chloé

**Marinette:** Chloé

**Marinette:** Chloé?

**Marinette:** Chloéanwer me whats wrong

Of course, her connection to Marinette went both ways.

**Chloé:** had a momment will call soon im ok now

Marinette answered instantly.

**Marinette:** u sure?

**Chloé:** yes call soon

She sat her phone down and apologized, but Adrien waved her off.

“You came over to comfort me,” he said, apologetically. “And I end up causing this.”

“You couldn’t know it would happen. It’s been years since the last one.”

“Is that your girlfriend texting?” he asked, switching subjects.

Chloé was glad he was offering her an out, and she suspected Adrien had done so on purpose.

She nodded. “Yes, it’s her. But Adrien, you knew that I wasn’t interested in you all this time?”

“Your maman told me, Chloé, a long time ago that however much I liked you that you could only see me as a friend.”

“Maman… told you? And wait… **you** liked **me**?!” She had never suspected Adrien might have any feelings other than friendship towards her, which made her attaching herself to him for so many years a lot more uncomfortable for several reasons, not the least of which was that it was completely unfair to put him in the position of having to fend her off when she had no romantic desire for him at all.

He nodded and said, “She called and asked if I could visit one day. I thought you would be there, but you were out. It was… very near the end, but she wanted to tell me that she knew you loved me like a brother, but you couldn’t return my feelings, and she asked me to look out for you even if you didn’t like me the way I liked you.”

Chloé had never suspected. “I didn’t realize.”

“I suppose I’ve always been too shy for my own good, and it’s okay. I’m glad to be your friend, and I moved on.”

“Maman told you that I like girls.” It was not a question. It was a statement. If Adrien said it happened, then it did. Still, this was hard to digest. It was incomprehensible that maman would admit to someone that her daughter was a lesbian.

“When I asked her if you liked Angelique, she told me,” Adrien answered and then immediately looked like he might be the one to panic. “I’m sorry, Chloé! I didn’t mean to bring her up again.”

“No, Adrien, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have reacted like I did.”

“Chloé, you can’t apologize for having a panic attack,” he said, sounding a bit annoyed.

Chloé gave him a cross look and huffed. “Fine,” she said finally. “I’m curious, though. You knew I like girls and you still let me pretend like I had the hugest crush on you?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “I didn’t need to promise your maman that I would look out for you. I’ll always look out for you, Chloé.”

“Thank you,” Chloé said, quietly.

“Even if you take the flirting too far.”

Chloé rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious, Chloé. I know you want people to keep their distance, and I’m okay if you need me to help with that, but maybe you could ease off on how… hostile you are towards everyone else?”

Chloé nodded. “You’re right.”

“Especially towards Marinette,” Adrien continued.

“What?” Chloé asked nervously. “Why specifically Marinette? Are you… **interested** in her?”

“No, I’m not, but she seems like a sweet girl, Chloé, and she’s probably the shyest person I’ve ever met. It’s not really fair to harass her like that.”

Chloé didn’t answer. Her mouth was too dry to speak. She did nod, though.

“I know you have to study with her, so if you can get along it will be easier for you, too,” Adrien said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to lecture you. I’m worried about you, though.”

“It’s okay,” Chloé said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I probably should have heard this years ago.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Adrien said. “Tell me about this girl of yours.”

“Well, she’s smart and beautiful and good and patient… and she’s pretty perfect actually. I’m really lucky,” Chloé responded. Maybe she could get out of this without revealing right at this moment that she was dating Marinette. It would be beyond awkward.

Adrien smiled, but there was a forlorn quality to it. “I’m glad one of us is lucky in love.”

“Really?” Chloé scoffed. “What kind of idiot would turn down Adrien Agreste?”

Adrien dropped his head. “The most special girl in the world. She’s… she’s dazzling and gorgeous and brave… and she’s in love with another guy.”

“Oh,” Chloé said. “I’m sorry she turned you down.”

“Well, she didn’t say ‘no’ exactly…”

“What? You didn’t ask her how she feels about you?” Chloé asked crossly. “Seriously, Agreste, you’re a catch, but even you have to ask the girl out first.” She had an idea. “Is she anyone I know? I can help you win her over. There’s no way anyone can compete with you.”

“No,” Adrien said, warily. “She isn’t anyone you know I think.”

“Hm…” It might be more difficult, but she could still help despite Adrien seeming incredibly nervous about her helping him. It was understandable considering her behavior the past few years, but she was determined to make that right.

Adrien interrupted her thoughts. “You still haven’t told me much about your new girlfriend, Chloé. What’s her name? It has to be someone at school, or did you meet her at a party?”

Chloé bit her lower lip. It was a habit she had picked up from Marinette. He was trying to distract her from his relationship woes, but she had no way to avoid this forever. “Um… It’s…” she trailed off, annoyed that ever since that dream and whatever it had done, she seemed unable to keep her emotions from bubbling to the surface. “It’s Marinette.”

Adrien smiled. “Really?”

“Yes,” Chloé answered, annoyed at his smugness.

Adrien laughed uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny, Adrien?”

“You can’t see the irony in this, Chloé?”

Chloé sighed and rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t really angry. “Oh, believe me. I see it,” she said. Chloé had been aggressively destructive in her actions towards Marinette and others for years—and that included Adrien. “I tried so hard to keep her at arm’s length—to push her away for so long. And I was a horrible friend to you. I was so afraid of… of feeling the way I felt that I acted horribly towards you.”

Adrien shrugged. “I’m just glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy, Chloé, and if it means you and I get another chance to be friends, then I’m happy, too.”

“I am happy,” she responded. “But I’ve been here over an hour, and I’m going to be late if I don’t leave soon. We have our first official date tonight.” She hesitated. “Adrien, she would understand if I need to cancel, especially if I’m helping a friend. She’s really great about things like that.”

Adrien’s mouth was set in a hard line. “Nope. Get out of here and have an amazing date.”

He stood and pulled Chloé to her feet and into an embrace.

“Adrien,” Chloé said firmly. “I’ve made a decision. I’m definitely going to help you get this girl you’re crushing on.”

“I don’t—”

“No,” Chloé said, stopping him from declining. “I need to be a better friend, and my first act to make up for years of being a brat is to help you with her. No arguing.”

“I’m not going to win here, am I?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head as they walked outside. “You’re going to be happy, Adrien, and you’re going to get your chance with this girl. I promise.”

“Fine. We’ll talk about it later. Now go charm your girlfriend, and have fun.”

“I feel like I haven’t been much help to you today, Adrien,” Chloé complained. “You ended up helping me instead.”

Adrien shrugged, but he did look happier than when she arrived. “Maybe that’s what I needed—to feel like I can help someone instead of just being a person that people tolerate.”

She knew he meant his father. No one else treated him that way. But Chloé also knew from long personal experience that it was hard to break out of a cycle like that.

“Okay,” she said finally. “We’re going to hang out more from now on, though, and soon enough we’re going to be double-dating, you with your mystery girl and me with Marinette.”

“Sure, Chloé,” he said, grinning. “I’d like that a lot.”

He kissed her on the cheek, and she got in her limo. Once the car was on its way, she texted Marinette and said she would explain tonight. Marinette let her know they were definitely talking about it. For the rest of the ride, Chloé felt melancholy. She didn’t care for this whole psychic development—if that was what it was—if it meant causing Marinette pain. And then there was Maman telling Adrien so openly about Chloé’s feelings. Maybe Marinette could help her sort out what that meant because Chloé certainly had no idea why Maman would have done that.

When she arrived home, Marinette was waiting at the entryway looking very troubled.

Chloé got out of the car and walked over to Marinette saying, “I thought I was supposed to pick you up in a few minutes.”

“Change of plans,” Marinette responded, taking Chloé’s hands in hers. She started to lean forward to kiss Chloé, but hesitated and stopped. “I want a quiet night with you instead.”

Chloé guessed the brunette held back on the kiss because she was unsure if Chloé would be comfortable, especially if Papa was about. She bent her head to give Marinette a kiss, but also stopped when she saw the worried look in her girlfriend’s eyes.

“It’s fine, Marinette,” she said. “If Papa sees, he sees. I’m… I’m tired of living my life afraid. It’s exhausting being one person in private and a whole other person in public. I don’t want to do it anymore, and I hope Papa understands, but if he doesn’t… well, that means he doesn’t get a chance to know you, and that’s his loss.”

Chloé leaned forward and kissed Marinette. “I want you to have a special night, Mari,” she whispered into Marinette’s ear once they broke the kiss. “I’m sorry I had a panic attack and ruined it.”

Her girlfriend smiled. “Stop apologizing and let me comfort you like a good girlfriend. It **will** be special. We can order room service and just be with each other.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Chloé agreed. “But I know you wanted to go to the art gallery.”

“It’ll be there later. Tell you what, since you’re letting me have my way tonight… For the next date, you get to make all the decisions, okay? So please let’s stay in tonight and watch a movie or something.”

Chloé pretended to weigh her options. She was of course going to let Marinette have her way, and the next date was definitely going to be a trip to that gallery. It would make Marinette happy, and that was all that was important to Chloé.

She blew out a breath and said, “Fine. You’re lucky that you’re pretty, Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette laughed and led her into the hotel.

Chloé called back over her shoulder to the driver that he could have the night off. As she looked around, she noticed how the hotel staff was looking at her and Marinette. They seemed… fond. Thinking back, there had been a shift of late in her interactions with the concierges and the other hotels staff. Before she and Marinette had become friends, they had always maintained a polite distance from her, and Chloé appreciated that. It’s what she had wanted from everyone. Now when she walked down the halls, there were smiles and greetings.

The difference Marinette had made in her life was in every way startling and wonderful. Chloé never wanted to go back to how things used to be. Sure, she still had her temper, and yes she was still impatient, but now it didn’t seem as if everything was always on the edge of disaster. Marinette had done this for her.

Chloé stopped and Marinette turned to face her looking up cheerfully.

“Marinette, you make me happy,” she said quietly.

“You make me happy, too,” Marinette stepped close and responded just as quietly.

“I’m glad,” Chloé said. “You’ve made my whole life better, and I know I can’t do that for you, but I want to try to be something positive in your life at least. I don’t want this to just be about **you** giving to **me**. I need to give back to you—to be something good in your life.”

Marinette reached up and put her gentle hand on Chloé’s cheek. “You are good for me, Chloé. I see how strong and fierce you are, and you inspire me. I see how deeply you care and how determined you are to fight for the people you love, and you inspire me. I’ve seen how you face down your fears and always— **always** —choose to protect me, and you inspire me.

“You are the only person I trust to know my secret. You’re the one I rely on to be waiting for me when I come back. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like I’m two people. I’m not Marinette and Ladybug. I’m just… Marinette. You give me that, and it’s the best gift in the whole world.

“How could I have not fallen in love with you, Chloé?”

Chloé stepped back and made sure she was speaking loudly enough so anyone in the hotel lobby could hear.

“I love you, Marinette.”

She could feel the swelling happiness Marinette felt, and it matched hers. Chloé took Marinette’s hand as they walked to the elevator, and they did so in the way that made Chloé happier than she had ever been: They were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was a fun chapter to read! There are a few tense moments, but overall it's a happy chapter. These characters deserve some happiness I think.
> 
> This chapter is the climax of the Act I in the series in more ways than one, I suppose! I'm also setting up some mysteries and complications to be dealt with in Act II.
> 
> Other than that, I think this is one of those chapters where I should let the work stand on its own merit whether that means success or failure.
> 
> Next chapter, I have a surprise in store! I very sincerely hope to publish Friday, but I have a major trip this Wednesday through Sunday, and I will have limited computer access. That means if I can't finish writing Ch. 10 tonight, it won't publish Friday. On a good day, I can write about 10,000 words, but I don't want to put out a poor chapter due to rushing. Also, I'm extremely nervous due to flying on Wednesday, but that's par for the course. Fingers crossed that I can make all this work.


	10. The Ratio of Good to Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s always the same amount of good luck and bad luck in the world. If one person doesn’t get the bad luck, somebody else will have to get it in their place. There’s always the same amount of good and evil, too. We can’t eradicate evil, we can only evict it, force it to move across town. And when evil moves, some good always goes with it. But we can never alter the ratio of good to evil. All we can do is keep things stirred up so neither good nor evil solidifies. That’s when things get scary. Life is like a stew, you have to stir it frequently, or all the scum rises to the top.
> 
> \- _Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker_ (1980)
> 
> Song Choice: “Province” by TV on the Radio

Tikki watched as Marinette and Chloé came into Marinette’s bedroom after helping in the bakery, and immediately realized what had happened. She could see the telltale traces of magic flowing around their clasped hands. The girls had Bonded. She wished they had come to her as soon as they had had the dream so she could advise them, but there was no point in lamenting what might have been.

What’s done was done, and it wasn’t as though Tikki thought Marinette had chosen poorly. In fact, the kwami had come to love Chloé, too, despite her general resolve to maintain a cordial distance from other humans in order to be somewhat objective as she aided her Miraculous bearer. She believed that in many ways Chloé could make a wonderful match for Marinette through the troubles to come. She knew she should tell them about the impending danger and what hardships they now faced, but Tikki wanted to give them at least a small amount of time to simply enjoy each other, because there was a good possibility that one or both would not survive the dangerous times ahead.

The Bond had originally been intended to reinforce the ties that united the Ladybug and the Chat Noir. There were only a handful of times where one of the two bearers had fallen in love with and Bonded with another person—seven times, to be precise. For a Bearer to choose another was highly irregular, and had consequences.

But none of that mattered at the moment.

Tikki flew over to Marinette and whispered into her ear. “I’m so happy for you, Marinette,” she said. “I can see how much you love her. Trust in yourself. Tell her and give her the chance to love you, too.

“I’m going away for the day, but I swear on the Miraculous you bear that no akuma will attack until I return. 

“You deserve this, and so does she.”

With that, she flew through the ceiling to the balcony and took a moment to gather herself before sending out the call to the others.

Unknown to the other kwami except for perhaps Wayzz, Tikki often worried if the particular path she had chosen to guide the Ladybugs was the right one. None of the other kwami fully agreed with her approach when it came to this aspect of their calling, especially Plagg. He believed that the best way to guide the bearers was to push and cajole them in what he saw as the necessary direction, but Tikki felt otherwise. Wayzz agreed it was Tikki’s decision when it came to how she interacted with her bearer at least, and that bought her a lot of respect from the others.

Despite Tikki’s worries, she had accepted long ago that it was best to abide by her bearer’s decisions. It was important that the bearers make their own choices about their futures. If not, what was the point of humans bearing the Miraculous at all? When they had decided to help the humans so many centuries ago, they had agreed that they needed to bind themselves to certain rules of behavior, or they risked falling to corruption and becoming as destructive as the roiling forces of entropy they sought to counter. They hadn’t come here to rule humans or tell them who they could and couldn’t love, even if the right choice meant a better chance at holding the chaos at bay.

She felt the air shift subtly. It was time. Tikki closed her eyes and focused. When she reopened her eyes, she stood on a beach beneath the dark, starry skies illuminated by the full moon. For a long moment, she stood enjoying the cool breeze and the rhythms of the surf crashing against the beach.

Tikki was home. 

She examined herself. In this world, she was far closer in form to a human than the small creature her bearers saw. Her skin was still red, and the black dots were still scattered across her body, but her head was in proportion to her torso, as were all her parts. It was nice to be in her true form for a time.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She had missed this place. They all did, but the sacrifice was worth it. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it when she had the opportunity to visit.

Tikki heard the others behind her speaking their own language instead of a human tongue. Their native tongue was far more lyrical and far more formal than any human language. Turning, she looked at the eternal banquet the magic of their home provided, laid out on smooth driftwood. Plagg was already eating while Wayzz comforted Nooroo, lightly wrapping an arm around his tired shoulders. Tikki was glad that Nooroo had these opportunities to be free of the current Hawk Moth even if it was only for brief periods.

Tikki was quite aware the others had detected her presence and were subtly watching. They knew instinctively which of them had called them to convocation. She did not wish to show doubt, or this would become an even more difficult task than it already had to be. Tikki composed herself and approached the gathering. She wished all the kwami could be here, but only active kwami could attend. The others rested in their chosen Miraculous, waiting on the day they were called to action. 

From the look on Plagg’s face, he knew why Tikki had called them together, and he wasn’t very happy. Plagg and Nooroo had no reservations about taking an active hand in guiding their charges. She could understand Nooroo’s point, especially considering the trouble his bearer caused while in unknowing service to the forces the kwami as a group seeked to hold at bay, but even before, Nooroo had felt that it was wise to make sure the Hawk Moth selected proper champions to inspire. 

Plagg was a different story. Tikki held great affection for Plagg. Humans might even describe it as love, although the nature of their relationship was different from any human affair. It was simply that in many ways, kwami were alien to humans and vice versa, and Plagg of all the kwami lacked the patience necessary to allow humans to come to the right conclusion on their own. 

Truthfully, humans did tend to create as many problems for themselves as they solved. Plagg didn’t understand why humans couldn’t just do as they were told and solve the issue once and for all. All the kwami recognized this inherent resistance in humans and dealt with it in different ways. Plagg, for instance, feigned laziness and callousness, while picking and choosing his spots where he would exert influence. Tikki might describe it as underhanded during times where she was feeling less than charitable, but she never doubted the love and affection that Plagg felt for his bearer or humanity in general.

Sitting down on the sand by the table, Tikki took some food for herself. This was part of the ritual of their meetings. First, they ate and talked companionably among themselves. Then, it was up to the kwami who had called the meeting to broach the subject of the gathering. Plagg was pointedly not speaking to Tikki, nor did he greet her as Wayzz and Nooroo did.

Very well, she thought. If he’s going to pout, let him stew for a few minutes. She took her time eating. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest strategy to antagonize Plagg, but he was being rude. It occurred to Tikki that perhaps Chloé was rubbing off on her a bit. 

Finally, she felt she had delayed long enough to make her point without pushing it too far. Standing up, she faced her fellow kwami and smiled gently to take some of the sting out.

“Friends,” she began, using the traditional greeting. “Thank you for attending me as I bring greetings from the world of the humans. I wish to announce that my bearer has created a Bond—”

She got no further as Plagg interrupted. “Yes,” he said. “With the **wrong** human.”

Wayzz and Nooroo looked between the two with concern.

“It is her choice,” Tikki countered, ignoring that Plagg had broken the protocol of allowing the presiding kwami to deliver their news before speaking. “I’ve no right to ask her to deny her heart.”

Plagg glowered, but did not have time to respond as Wayzz spoke.

“This is an old disagreement,” the turtle kwami said. “We have no need to relitigate it.” He paused to make sure that his words took hold before continuing. “Tikki, is the person the Ladybug bearer Bound to a suitable match?”

“Yes,” Tikki answered over the sound of Plagg barking out a short, angry laugh. “She is.”

“Then I thank you for letting us know,” Wayzz continued. “I think we are all aware how dangerous the events of the future will be for your bearers, but Tikki’s judgment is sound in these matters. Let us enjoy the feast and depart as friends once the appointed time arrives.”

Tikki was surprised that Wayzz had moved to accept the Bond so quickly, but not evidently as surprised as Plagg.

“That’s it?” he sputtered. “My bearer is going to be heartbroken! It’s going to crush him!”

Tikki truly admired the depth of caring that Plagg possessed for his bearers, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot help who my bearer chose, Plagg,” Tikki said, soothingly.

“Because you refused to counsel her properly!” Plagg said, becoming more heated by the second. “Have you even told her the consequences of choosing against fate?”

“No, it would be unfair and wrong to have her choose a Bond out of duty and not love,” Tikki responded, her voice rising as well.

Nooroo surprised her by speaking up. “My bearer is corrupted, Tikki, and he holds the Fox Miraculous in his possession as well. This is a special circumstance! We are two kwami down with one Miraculous bearer actively trying to destroy the other bearers!”

Tikki looked to Wayzz for support, but he only looked on impassively. Fine. If that was how it was going to be, she could handle this herself.

“My bearer is **my** responsibility, and unless I have broken one of our laws, none of you have cause to interfere,” Tikki said, before taking a deep breath to steady herself. “What’s done is done. I respect my bearer’s choice, and nothing either of you can say will change that.”

“There’s still time,” Nooroo said, and Plagg nodded in agreement. “The bond is still tenuous, unstable. It can be undone without harm to either human, and you can make this right, Tikki.”

Plagg spoke up in support of Nooroo. “This has happened before—seven times to be precise—and each time ended disastrously.”

Tikki steeled herself. What she said next would not be received happily. “The Bond is currently being consummated. The link between their souls is forged and unbreakable.”

Humans were creatures driven by emotion. The Bond was a significant, pure emotion that had the side effect of overwhelming the bearer and the chosen, inevitably drawing them towards each other in order to fully complete the spiritual link through a declaration of love.

“You allowed this?!” Plagg said, eyes wide with outrage. “Tikki, why did you not tell them how many lives they’re putting at risk by giving into these urges? This is disaster. Absolute disaster!”

Suddenly, it was as if all the fight had gone out of Plagg as he slumped where he sat, and Tikki moved to comfort him. She might disagree with him, but she still cared for him.

“No, it’s not too late,” Nooroo said, gravely. “The Bond… can be undone.”

Tikki’s temper flared. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” she said, the pitch of her voice rising. “Sacrificing the life of a human so that the Ladybug bearer can recreate the Bond with the Chat Noir?”

Nooroo appeared stunned into silence. 

“Well, Nooroo?” Tikki continued as she rounded on Nooroo. Chloé had definitely had an effect on her. “Have you become so corrupted by your bearer that a human’s life means so little to you?”

“No!” Nooroo shouted as he stood and began pacing back and forth. “Is there another kwami who knows more about the spiritual ties a Miraculous bearer can create than I do? I created the Ritual of Binding in the first place, Tikki!”

Tikki paused. Nooroo was the kwami of inspiration. His powers centered around his bearer creating a minor Bond with another and inspiring them to become more than they usually were. Or worse than they usually were, in the case of his current bearer. But it was true. Nooroo had been the one to develop the Binding that linked the Ladybug bearer with the Chat Noir bearer to aid them against their enemies.

“Then what do you mean?” Tikki asked warily.

Nooroo appeared to consider his words carefully. “If one of the humans is willing to reject the Bond—even after the two have ritually sealed the Binding—there is a way for it to be untied.”

Plagg appeared excited by this news. “We must do this, Tikki! For my bearer and yours **and** her chosen human. What good is a Bond if they’re all dead?”

Tikki’s eyes flicked to Wayzz. His gaze was attentive, but he still patiently watched.

“Are there consequences for the humans, Nooroo?” Tikki asked. “This isn’t the first time a bearer has chosen to Bond outside of fate, so why haven’t you told us of this before?” She was appalled she was even considering this, but Plagg was right. Thousands upon thousands had died the other seven times as the world plunged into darkness and hate. She wanted to trust Marinette and Chloé to get each other through this, but maybe it would be best to have a backup plan.

Nooroo sat at the table and folded his hands in front of his face. “I’ve never discussed it because it’s risky if you make a mistake during the ritual. You would have to untie the Binding in a dream. It can be either the bearer’s dream or the dream of the human she has chosen. If done correctly, it breaks the Binding. But if you make an error, you could become lost in the world of dreams .”

“You could guide her, Nooroo,” Plagg said. His eagerness was annoying Tikki.

Nooroo nodded. “Yes, I can assist you inside the dream.”

“I didn’t ask ‘how,’ Nooroo. I asked what the consequences are,” she reminded them. If Nooroo was avoiding discussing the ramifications, there must be a reason, and Tikki expected it would be something she found unpalatable.

The butterfly kwami sighed sadly, taking away any hope Tikki was holding onto that this might be something she would find reasonable. “Both of them would be purged of the ability to love.”

Tikki sat down on the rough sand, stunned. To his credit, Plagg appeared equally speechless.

“They would **probably** still feel fondness for others,” Nooroo offered. “Perhaps. I think. But love?” He stopped and looked down at the table before continuing. “I am certain the Miraculous bearer would be able to form another Bond and feel love again once she does so, but I’m afraid her original chosen would have that particular emotion stripped from her for all time. She would never feel love for another living being again.”

Tikki scrambled to her feet. “No!” she shouted, slamming her hands on the table. “I will never agree to this and if—”

She was unable to finish her threat as Wayzz proclaimed, “Enough!”

All three kwami turned to face the eldest among them. 

“Tikki has the right to guide her bearer as she sees fit,” Wayzz said, voice heavy with finality. “The two of you have voiced valid concerns, and I appreciate them, as I’m sure Tikki does, but it is her decision.”

“No,” Plagg said, forcefully. “This affects my bearer as well, meaning we vote as a council.”

“And face a stalemate?” Wayzz answered. A tie meant the kwami most responsible for the bearer held sway. “No, Tikki must be respected…”

Tikki’s smile was cut short as Wayzz finished.

“However,” he said. “We can keep Nooroo’s suggestion as a last resort to be considered if necessary.”

Tikki couldn’t let that stand. “I’ll never agree,” she said. Her voice was shaking with rage. She had never felt this much anger towards her fellow kwami.

Plagg looked dumbfounded. “You would break with us?”

The notion of rebelling had only ever come up in the case of the Fox kwami, whom they all loved but had to admit was a contentious kwami who didn’t always play well with others. But to lose the Ladybug kwami—the kwami of creation who healed the damage wrought by the forces of darkness—was to surrender the war. Tikki’s inherent love and kindness and generosity was why she had been entrusted by the others as the kwami of creation. 

But this was a line Tikki wouldn’t cross. “Yes,” she stated with finality. “Nothing can convince me to go along with this.”

Wayzz looked at her, sorrow in his eyes, and asked, “What if your bearer’s chosen would make that sacrifice willingly?”

Except that. Wayzz as the kwami of balance had a knack for finding accord, and he knew that Tikki would not withhold this knowledge from Marinette and Chloé. Tikki believed in her charges making their own choices, even if it was a fate she would never choose for them.

The issue was that Chloé, who had denied her own heart for so long, would make the deal in a heartbeat. For years, Marinette and Tikki had thought the girl completely selfish and totally unwilling to consider the welfare of anyone besides herself. They had both been so very wrong. If the situation was desperate, Chloé would agree without hesitation, although the loss might very well break Marinette’s spirit… or Chloé’s sacrifice might inspire her to new heights of courage and determination as she sought to honor the gift Chloé had bestowed on her. One could never tell with humans.

Wayzz smiled kindly. “I think we can all agree we’ve done as much tonight as we can. Tikki, will you walk with me?”

He began strolling down the beach at an amiable pace without waiting for an answer. 

Tikki looked to Nooroo and Plagg. Both of them had the grace to look ashamed of their words. She turned and followed Wayzz.

As she caught up, Wayzz looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He remained silent until they were well out of earshot of the others.

“Dark times approach, Tikki,” he said.

“I know, Wayzz,” she said, voice heavy with sorrow.

“Tell me of this chosen human, please.”

This surprised Tikki, but if Wayzz wanted to know about Chloé, then it would be easier to bring him to her side when this fight inevitably came up again.

“She’s determined,” Tikki began. “She’s stronger in spirit than she realizes, and she will do anything to protect someone she loves.”

“Only someone she loves?” Wayzz asked.

“No. Recently, she has begun to open up her heart to the world,” Tikki responded proudly. “My bearer’s love has given her the strength to trust herself again. For the longest time, she closed herself off from love, but now she’s becoming a confident, caring human, and although I will admit that’s been cultivated by my bearer, the Ladybug couldn’t create that out of nothing.

“No, the love and kindness and courage have always been there, buried deep. The human simply needed another to believe in her,” Tikki finished.

“So she would make the sacrifice we discussed?”

Tikki’s smile evaporated. “Yes, she would.”

“It may come to that, but it would only be by her choice, and we would be honest with both humans,” Wayzz said.

“There is something fundamental about a human’s ability to love others, Wayzz,” Tikki countered. “Without it you end up like Nooroo’s bearer.”

“I would argue that the issue with Nooroo’s bearer is not that he **lacks** the ability to love, but that he is **blinded** by love.”

Tikki considered Wayzz’s words. He was right. She knew that. But this was simply too much. “I can’t agree to this, Wayzz, no matter how sound the logic is. It’s a violation of everything I believe.”

“Even if it meant the death of your bearer? You know why this was brought up. It’s apparent to all of us how special this Ladybug is to you, and the threat we face now is dire.”

Tikki was aware of the truth of his words. Every Ladybug and Chat Noir eventually had to face down whatever agent of chaos had ascended to power. If they failed, the world suffered under the thumb of tyrants and despots. The nameless, hateful morass the kwami thought of as **chaos** was beginning to concentrate its power again. Soon, it would begin to escalate its strikes, adding to the Hawk Moth’s power and his madness. This inevitable surge in power was why the Bond had been created. By forging a spiritual link between the bearers of the kwami of creation and the kwami of destruction, and aided by the other five kwami, their strength would increase exponentially and they could deliver a blow to the evil they faced and grant another generation of humans peace and prosperity.

This time, they were at least two kwami short of a whole. Hawk Moth was this generation’s menace, and he had the Fox Miraculous in his possession, since he had forsaken it to claim the Butterfly Miraculous when his wife disappeared. Rarely had the Miraculous bearers faced such a threat.

“Isn’t it enough that you’ve made this an option we have to keep in mind?” Tikki asked, bitterly. “Can’t you be satisfied with that?”

Wayzz frowned and sat on the beach letting the waves wash over his toes. “I’m not satisfied with any of it. I hate every second our bearers face danger, and I hate even more that we would ask a human to sacrifice a part of her soul. All of us hate it. Plagg is terrified his bearer is going to fall prey to the Hawk Moth’s manipulations once he learns the Ladybug has rejected him. Nooroo is terrified he’s doomed to be an unwilling partner in the destruction of all we hold dear. Surely, you see all this, too, Tikki?

“Do you think that doing this to a human we’ve sworn to protect is what I envisioned when I brought us all together? When I asked us to bind ourselves and our powers to the Miraculous?”

Tikki sat beside the turtle kwami and said, “No, I know you don’t want a human to make that kind of sacrifice.”

“We’ll do what we can to make sure it doesn’t come to that, Tikki,” Wayzz assured her. 

She looked at him and saw all the years of sadness and worry he had accumulated. “Thank you, Wayzz.”

“This is the eighth time a bearer has made the choice to Bind to someone other than their counterpart, Tikki,” Wayzz said, and Tikki could hear the traces of hope in his voice.

“The number of good fortune,” she responded. “This time might be different.”

“I would give anything to make it so,” Wayzz said as he gazed at the stars splashed across the sky.

They remained silent after that and watched the beautiful ocean of their home until it was time to return to the human world where the struggle would resume.

Tikki strengthened the resolve in her heart to keep Marinette and Chloé safe and happy. She could do this. She trusted the love the two young women shared.

And she hoped that love would be enough… just this once.

* * *

_Marinette’s and Chloé’s story will continue in Act II of Nature under Constraint and Vexed: Divided Loyalties._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this opening act of my series! 
> 
> I have had a really lovely time writing this and have appreciated every single comment, kudo, and bookmark!
> 
> So surprise new POV character! I realize I'm going AU, but honestly it's always been AU since there's a canon pairing that isn't happening in this story. I really love Tikki, though, and wanted to get her thoughts at least as to what's going on plus give a preview of the challenges our new couple will face in the next act. I'm also going to get into Adrien's story in earnest in the next act. Rest assured, I adore him and he will most definitely get a happy ending!
> 
> It'll be about 2-3 months before I start publishing the sequel. I'm really looking forward to it!


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